Page 16 of Mountain Impact

“The guy was in shock. I’m not sure he knew what he was saying,” Drake said, eager to change the subject.

Normally, Drake enjoyed unwinding with his friends after work. They didn’t get together that often, but once a week or so somebody would suggest a drink, and Drake was usually one of the first to show up.

Today, however, his heart wasn’t in it. Instead of celebrating the six successful interventions earlier that day, he couldn’t stop thinking about the fucking cable car. And not the one from a couple days earlier―that, at least, would have made some amount of sense. But his mind kept going back to the accident six years earlier.

And to the little girl with brown curly hair, who’d died.

He wasn’t an idiot. Seeing that cable car fall on Sunday had opened the Pandora’s box of his mind. There was no going back now―it was on his mind day and night.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Drake?” Kat asked.

Gael cocked his head. “Drake’s just being his usual, broody self.”

“I don’t know, I think he’s somehow broodier than usual.”

“Stop talking about me like I’m not here, guys,” Drake said, but he softened his tone. These were his friends, his team. “I’m okay. I think I just need a bit of fresh air.”

He stood up, careful not to jostle the table, and walked outside. It was definitely easier to breathe out here.

Drake was trying to decide whether he should go back inside or call it a night and go home. He lived right in the center of town, so he could walk there in a matter of minutes. He kicked a small rock on the ground―soon, everything would be covered in snow.

Suddenly, a flash went off to his left―he flinched before realizing it was a tourist taking a picture across the street, and not the press. Ever since Yvette Legrand had mentioned it, he’d been expecting the press to come after him. Eventually, they would link this cable car crash to the one that happened six years earlier.

“You okay, Drake?” Hiro asked. Drake hadn’t even noticed his friends had followed him out. Beside Hiro stood Bailey―the black Dutch Shepherd was Hiro’s constant companion. In Chamonix, dogs were allowed almost everywhere, which was good because Hiro probably wouldn’t set foot in any establishment where Bailey wasn’t allowed as well.

The words were out before Drake could stop them. “I thought it was a reporter.”

“Why would a reporter be interested in you, Drake?” Gael asked.

Behind him, Jens and Hiro made a strangled noise. Drake would have laughed, if the whole thing hadn’t been so damn sad. Everybody was always so careful not to mention the incident to him.

He didn’t bother replying. He wondered what it was like for the girl’s family now. The parents had started their holiday as a family of four and had gone home a few days later with one child and a broken heart.

The girl’s older brother had been closer to the cabin window. Drake had pulled him out first―he’d handed the boy over to Damien, then gone back in for the little girl.

She’d been conscious but terrified, huddled against the back corner of the cabin, lying on what used to be the roof. He’d only just dragged himself inside when the structure had collapsed on top of them―crushing his leg and her thorax at the same time.

He’d read the autopsy report. He knew the girl had died as a result of blunt thoracic trauma―what the report didn’t say was that she died because Drake hadn’t been fast enough or strong enough to get her out.

If he’d only been one second faster, if he’d been able to wedge his hips into the small space, he might have been able to protect her long enough for Damien and the rest of the team to get her out.

Or you both would have died.

That’s what Isolde had told him, over the course of the multiple conversations they’d had together on the topic―conversations which had, in due course, led to other, more pleasurable things.

Before she betrayed you.

“I feel like I’m missing something,” Gael said, doggedly.

“You guys can tell him and Kat about it,” Drake said. “It’s not a big secret. You should all know, anyway, in case the press do come looking after me.”

“What are you going to do?” Jens asked. The doctor’s warm brown eyes were fully of worry.

“I’m going to head home and get some sleep.”

“I don’t know what’s going on, Drake, but call us if you need anything,” Gael asked. “Para eso están los amigos.”

Drake nodded, but he had no intention of bothering his friends with this. Precisely because they were friends, and because this wasn’t their cross to bear.