The farther we went, the fewer people there were.
My cousin led the way, picking up speed as she went. When we reached a turn, she suddenly slowed down.
I knew it—this was the spot.
Sure enough, just as I slid up beside her, she spun hard, her snowboard whipping sideways, crashing straight toward me.
I was ready. At the same instant, I twisted my body and dodged, sliding half a meter to the side.
She hadn't expected me to react that fast. The force of her own momentum threw her off balance. With a sharp scream, she tumbled headfirst down the steep slope.
Jake didn't hesitate. He rushed down after that pink figure.
I turned around and slid back the way we'd come, unhurried.
When I reached the beginner run, Mom and Dad were sitting in the café.
Mom waved when she saw me. "Sweetie, where's Freya?"
I pulled off my ski goggles, keeping my expression calm. "She said she wanted to check out the advanced run. Told me to head back first."
Mom frowned. "That girl—why'd she go over there alone?"
I sat down and ordered a hot chocolate. "She'll probably come back after she's had her fun."
Time crawled by.
An hour later, still no sign of her.
Mom started getting anxious. "Why is it taking so long? Nothing happened, right?"
Dad stood up. "I'll go look for her."
We went to the resort's management office together. When the staff heard someone had gone to the advanced run and hadn't returned, they immediately radioed the rescue team.
A few minutes later, a staff member rushed over, face pale. "You… you'd better come see this. Over by the equipment shed…"
We followed him to a prefab storage shed used for backup gear. A crowd had already gathered at the entrance—some whispering, others holding up phones to record.
"Move aside, move aside!" The staff member pushed through.
Mom, Dad, and I squeezed to the front. Before we could process anything, we heard it—suggestive sounds coming from inside the shed.
And the rhythmic creaking of wooden racks.
Mom's face changed instantly. "What is that?"
A middle-aged woman nearby whispered, "In broad daylight—shameless…"
Dad's expression went dark. He strode forward and kicked the flimsy wooden door open.
Bang!
