flash
The screech of the chopper’s rotor blades vibrated directly through the freezing slate beneath my spine. The blinding white vortex of snow kicked up by the downdraft burned my eyes, but I forced my lids open, locking my gaze onto the amber visor of the rescue specialist dropping out of the sky. / Chapter 1 / 30

Chapter 1 - The Descent into Life

The screech of the chopper’s rotor blades vibrated directly through the freezing slate beneath my spine. The blinding white vortex of snow kicked up by the downdraft burned my eyes, but I forced my lids open, locking my gaze onto the amber visor of the rescue specialist dropping out of the sky.

He slammed onto the narrow shelf, his crampons biting securely into the ice. Within seconds, his gloved hands were assessing my frozen limbs.

"Search and Rescue, ma’am! I’ve got you!" His voice boomed through the comms device clipped to his harness, cutting cleanly through the howling gale of Rocky Mountain National Park. "Stay with me. We have an active pulse. Repeat, we have a live casualty and she is heavily pregnant!"

I wanted to speak, to tell him about the $50 million policy, about Michael, about Ashley waiting at the trailhead with a celebratory bottle of champagne. But my vocal cords were locked behind a wall of frost. I could only squeeze the paramedic's wrist with the last shred of human strength I possessed.

"Hang on, Elena," he muttered, reading my wedding band or ID badge from my parka. "The flight doc is prepping the onboard NICU incubator. You're going to see your baby grow up."

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I stepped past the door frame, my leather shoes clicking softly against the linoleum floor.

I stepped past the door frame, my leather shoes clicking softly against...

Daniel stepped toward the bed, his polished leather shoes squeaking against the pristine hospital linoleum. He reached for the tray table, his fingers brushing the edge of the papers. His voice was low, coated in a practiced, corporate calm that made my stomach churn worse than the spiked blood pressure.

Daniel stepped toward the bed, his polished leather shoes squeaking agai...

The silence in the dining room stretched thin, heavy enough to slice with a butter knife. Robert, Michael’s father, adjusted his napkin, completely oblivious to the silent war being fought across the porcelain plates.

The silence in the dining room stretched thin, heavy enough to slice wit...

As he clipped me into the extraction harness and the winch hauled us vertically into the belly of the churning aircraft, the bitter wind whipped around us. Looking down through the frosted glass of the helicopter door, I watched the jagged peaks recede. Michael thought he had erased me. He thought the mountain would swallow his sins and hand him a fortune.

Instead, it was handing him a ghost.

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