I arched a brow. “Should I be worried?”
“Probably,” she said cheerfully.
She started toward it, and I followed partly because I was curious, partly because something about the way she glowed in the fairy lights made it impossible not to. The entrance to themaze was formed by two giant evergreens tied with a banner that readFind the Star!and, indeed, at the very centre, a tall star-shaped lantern flickered above the treetops like a beacon.
Children darted in and out laughing, parents trailed behind them, teenagers shrieked somewhere deeper inside. Brianna’s breath misted the air as she looked back at me.
“Ready?”
“Not really,” I admitted. “But lead the way… Bri.”
Her smile softened before she stepped inside the narrow tree-lined corridor. The moment I followed her, the lights overhead dimmed slightly, giving the maze a quieter, more intimate feel. The scent of pine surrounded us. The branches brushed our shoulders as we walked.
“This is ridiculous,” I murmured but I found myself smiling. “Charming, but ridiculous.”
“That’s Pine Hollow,” she said. “Ridiculous and charming.”
We reached the first fork and she paused dramatically.
“Choose wisely.”
I glanced both ways, equally clueless. “Left.”
She smirked. “Bold.”
We turned left, only to find two toddlers building a snow fort in the dead end.
“Ah,” I said. “Expertly navigated.”
One of the toddlers giggled at us, snow on her mittens. Brianna waved at them before tugging my sleeve lightly.
“There’s no wrong way,” she said as we retraced our steps. “That’s the point.”
We headed back to the fork and instead went right. Then another. Occasionally, Brianna led confidently, other times she let me guess. Lanterns hung in branches overhead, casting a soft, amber glow that made the snow sparkle.
For a moment, it felt… peaceful. Like we were the only two people in the maze.
“This place looks magical,” I said quietly.
“It is,” she replied, slowing a little. “Even after all these years… I never get tired of it.”
I watched her as she said it, her breath curling in the air, her cheeks flushed pink, her brown eyes reflecting the lights. She wasn’t just talking about the maze. We reached the centre a minute later, where the star lantern shone bright above us. Children cheered when they saw it; a teenager took a victory selfie; someone’s dog barked excitedly. But Brianna looked up at the star with a softness that tugged at something deep in my chest.
“Congratulations,” she said, brushing a stray snowflake from her coat. “You survived.”
“Barely,” I replied, though my voice came out warmer than intended. “How do we get out?”
She laughed, a soft, breathy sound that sent a faint warmth through the cold air.
“Come on,” she said, smiling and heading through a break in the trees. “We still have the carousel, the stalls… and the ice rink.”
I swallowed as I glanced toward the glittering lights draped above the ice. The rink. Where I was undoubtedly going to embarrass myself.
“Remind me again why I agreed to this?”
Her smile widened. “Because you’re stuck here… and you need cheering up.”
And before I could respond, she gently took my sleeve and tugged me toward the lights.
