the snow melts (8)

The cabin has been her home for years, but lately, it’s started to feel like something else—a weight, maybe, or a tether. She wonders if Noah feels it too, or if he’s simply better at ignoring it. “I’m not saying I want to leave,” she says quickly, as if to reassure him.

“I just… I don’t know. Sometimes I think about what it would be like to wake up somewhere else. To not be surrounded by trees and snow and… memories.” Noah nods slowly, his gaze distant.

“I get that,” he says finally. “But I think no matter where you go, you’ll always carry some of it with you. The good parts and the bad.” She knows he’s right, but the thought isn’t as comforting as he might intend it to be.