Rachel Carter spun the wheel one last time, but the black sedan only sank deeper into the snowdrift. Six years of late nights had brought her to this mountain road, one hour from the lodge where partners waited for her morning proposal. She killed the engine. The heater died with it. She yanked the fur coat from the passenger seat and pulled it tight. The blizzard outside looked like a white wall. Her phone showed no bars. Walking to the lodge would kill her before the partners ever heard a word. Through the swirling snow, she spotted a dark shape off the road. A small cabin. Rustic logs, a slanted roof, one shuttered window. Shelter. She grabbed her leather bag with the proposal inside and shoved the door open against the wind. Rachel staggered through knee-deep snow and pounded on the cabin door. It swung open under her fist. Empty. Cold, but dry. She dragged herself inside and bolted the door behind her. The sedan was lost to the storm. The presentation was hours away. But she was alive, and she was going to find a way.