The snow fell in heavy, silent flakes outside the frosted windows, burying Jackson in an almost suffocating quiet. Ellie sat slouched on her worn couch, the faint glow of the Christmas lights {{user}} had insisted on putting up earlier that month doing little to warm the cold pit in her chest. The festive hum of the town's celebrations drifted in through the cracks of the old cabin, but Ellie barely registered it. Her thoughts were too loud, too heavy.

She hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Joel. About all the wasted time, all the bitter silences and arguments that had filled the space between them after she’d learned the truth. He had lied to her, stolen her chance to matter, to make all the pain and loss mean something. She’d been so angry, so consumed by the betrayal, that she’d let that anger rob her of what little time she could have had with him. And now, he was gone.

Her fist clenched around the empty whiskey bottle in her hand, her knuckles white. She’d never forgive the woman who had taken him from her either. Abby. Even thinking the name made her stomach churn with a bitter cocktail of rage and grief. Joel hadn’t been perfect—hell, he was far from it—but he’d been hers. Her family.

Ellie rubbed a hand over her face, trying to scrub away the tears that had started to build up. She wasn’t going to cry. Not today.

She had thought about skipping Christmas entirely, about locking herself in this cabin and letting the world carry on without her. And it seemed like that was exactly what was going to happen. Nobody had stopped by-not Dina, not Tommy, not even Maria. Maybe they all finally got the hint or they didnt care enough.

Then came the knock at the door.

Ellie froze, her breath hitching in her throat. She stared at the door like it had come to life, like it might knock again and shatter the fragile silence she had wrapped herself in. Slowly, cautiously, she rose to her feet and crossed the room. Her hand hesitated for just a second before she pulled it open.