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Bastian: Nope.
Elisha: Should I send out a search party? It’s been two days and I still haven’t heard from her.
Bastian: If we don’t hear anything by tomorrow, I’m getting out my old snowshoes.
Max: Le sigh. You’re not going alone. Get mine out too.
Elisha: Best of luck. I’m staying right here by my fireplace.
Bastian: If you don’t hear from us by tomorrow, send that search party.
Elisha: Noted.
I look over at Adam, who’s furiously typing away.
“I think the cell tower is most definitely working again,” I say as I type a response to the group chat.
Me: We are alive. No murders…yet. Hopefully, they can get the roads plowed tomorrow once this storm clears. We lost power but the backup generator is now working and the cable lines got pulled up by a tree. So no Wi-Fi or landlines.
Felipe, who has settled by the foot of the bed, whines.
“I think the dogs need dinner and a bathroom break,” Adam says as he stands and throws on a robe. He offers me a button-down shirt and boxer shorts.
“Chill, Felipe. We’re going to feed you,” I say to my dog as Adam and I head toward the kitchen.
The dogs jostle for the head-of-the-pack position as we meander through corridors. Felipe bumps into a side table and knocks a vase off it. The vase crashes to the floor and I freeze like a deer in the headlights.
“Oh, God! Please tell me that’s a reproduction and not some priceless artifact,” I yelp as I lunge for my dog and tell him to sit.
All three dogs respond to my command and sit along the hallway.
Adam looks down at it and shrugs. “It’s a five-hundred-year-old Ming dynasty vase worth several millions,” he states.
I hear his words but then everything gets a little fuzzy as if he’s in a tunnel. My vision starts to look like an old television screen with no reception. And then everything goes black.
CHAPTERELEVEN
Adam
Thank God I was close enough to catch her. Fine, it was a little mean to lie, but I was just joking. It’s a simple reproduction. Our Ming vases are carefully stored in the dining room cabinets.
The dogs are crowded around us, and Felipe is licking Isa’s face.
“Isa, beautiful, wake up,” I say softly as I touch her cheek while cradling her body with my other arm.
She stirs and opens her big, brown eyes. “I…I can’t afford…” She trails off.
“I was joking. It’s not real. I’m sorry…I didn’t think you’d believe me,” I try to explain but feel more and more like a jackass with every word I utter.
She frowns. “It’s not real?”
I shake my head.
She glares at me. “Fuck you! That’s not remotely funny,” she hisses as she climbs out of my arms and stands, swaying slightly. I grab her arm.
“I’m sorry,” I reiterate a little more aggravated. “Let’s get you food, too.”
I help her down to the kitchen, linking my arm with hers. She doesn’t say a word to me, which means she’s probably pissed.
