Her heart skipped a beat. She slowed the truck, eyes narrowing, then her stomach dropped as recognition hit.
Camille?
Slamming the truck into park, Lila yanked her keys from the ignition and hurried out, the icy wind cutting through her coat. Camille sat on the top step, bundled in a thick down parka, her knees pulled to her chest. Her head was bowed, but Lila didn’t miss the telltale shake of her shoulders. She was shivering.
“Camille!” Lila’s voice rose above the crunch of her boots on the snow-packed driveway. “What are you doing here? Why are you sitting outside? Where’s your key?”
Camille flinched at her mother’s voice, looking up with a faint, apologetic smile. “I couldn’t find it,” she said, her voice hoarse and trembling. “I…I thought I had it, but…I didn’t.”
Lila frowned, climbing the steps two at a time. Up close, Camille’s cheeks were flushed from the cold, her eyes shadowed and tired. “How long have you been out here?” Lila demanded, wrapping her arm around Camille’s shoulders and pulling her close. “It’s freezing!”
“Not long,” Camille mumbled, though her stiff body suggested otherwise.
Lila glanced around, confused. “Where’s your car? And why didn’t you call me?”
Lila didn’t waste another moment waiting for answers. She fumbled with her keys, fingers clumsy in her gloves, and threw the door open. The rush of warmth hit them like a wave, and Lila quickly ushered Camille inside.
“Sit down,” Lila instructed, her tone clipped as she helped her daughter out of her parka. She hung it on the hook by the door, glancing over her shoulder to see Camille sink onto the couch, her shoulders slumped. Something was wrong. That much was clear.
“You could’ve called me,” Lila said as she moved toward the kitchen to start the kettle. Her voice softened slightly, though her worry bubbled just beneath the surface. “I would’ve come home right away. Why didn’t you call?” she repeated.
“I didn’t want to bother you,” Camille replied, her tone faint and uneven. “And my car is back at school. I caught a ride with…a friend.”
Lila paused, hands gripping the counter, before turning to face her daughter. “You never bother me. You know that. Now, what’s going on? Why are you here? Why aren’t you at school?”
Camille hesitated, her gaze fixed on her hands, which were fidgeting nervously in her lap. Lila’s heart clenched. The silence stretched, thick and heavy, until Camille finally looked up.
“I needed to talk to you,” she said, her voice cracking.
Lila crossed the room, sitting down beside Camille. She reached out, placing a hand on her daughter’s knee. “Okay,” she said, keeping her voice steady. “Then talk to me. What’s going on?”
Camille took a shaky breath, her eyes glistening. “I—I’m moving home.”
Lila blinked, the words not quite registering. She felt the floor tilt beneath her, though she tried to keep her expression calm. “Moving home?” she repeated slowly. “What do you mean? You’ve only been at the university for a semester. I thought things were going well.”
“I thought so, too,” Camille admitted, her voice a whisper. Her hands twisted together until the knuckles turned white. “But…things got complicated. I—I couldn’t stay.”
“Complicated how?” Lila pressed, her mind racing. Camille had seemed fine during their last phone call—busy with classes, making friends, settling into campus life. Now, looking at her daughter’s pale, drawn face, she realized how much Camille had kept hidden.
Camille swallowed hard, her gaze darting to the floor. “Mom,” she began, her voice trembling. “There’s…there’s something I need to tell you. Something important.”
Lila’s breath caught. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but the weight in Camille’s tone told her it wasn’t going to be easy. “Whatever it is, you can tell me,” she said softly, squeezing her daughter’s knee.
Camille’s eyes filled with tears, and she let out a shaky exhale. “I’m pregnant.”
3
The shop smelled of oil, grease, and the faint metallic tang of machinery. Capri knelt beside her Arctic Cat ZR1000 snowmobile, a wrench in her hand as she tweaked the motor with practiced precision. The hum of the fluorescent lights overhead barely registered as she focused on the fine adjustments. Her whitewater business might be her bread and butter, but this—working with her hands, tweaking engines—this was her escape.
Bodhi West leaned against the workbench behind her, his lanky frame casually draped over the edge as he watched her work. “You sure about this race, Capri?” he asked, his tone light but carrying an undercurrent of concern. “I’ve heard it can get pretty gnarly, especially this time of year. Spring melt, chance of avalanches…”
Capri glanced up, arching an eyebrow. A smirk played on her lips. “You getting soft on me, Bodhi? I thought you were the king of adrenaline around here.”
He chuckled. “I like a good rush, sure. But I also like keeping my limbs intact. Just saying, the Tetons don’t always play nice.”
Before Capri could respond, the shop door swung open with a burst of cold air, and a woman’s voice rang out. “Hey, Bodhi!” Alyssa, Bodhi’s girlfriend, strode in, her cheeks pink from the chill and her arms wrapped tightly around her midsection. “You need to come home and take a shower before we head to Jackson. And we still need to pick a movie.”
Bodhi sighed dramatically, his good-natured annoyance evident. “What’s on the list this time?”
