The storm rolled in faster than anyone could’ve expected.

Up in the mountains of Ambarino, the weather had a way of turning without warning. One moment the sky was only heavy with clouds. The next, snow came pouring down thick and wild, wind cutting through the trees like a blade.

Your horse struggled through the rising drifts, breath steaming in the freezing air.

You’d been trying to follow a trail for the better part of the afternoon, but the storm had swallowed it whole. Every direction looked the same now — endless white hills and dark pine trees bending under the weight of snow.

Turning back wasn’t an option anymore.

You pressed forward, hoping to find something before the cold got worse.

Then through the curtain of falling snow, a shape appeared between the trees.

A cabin.

Small and weather-beaten, sitting crooked against the mountainside like it had been there for years. Snow had piled thick along the roof and porch, but the walls still stood strong.

Relief hit you so suddenly your shoulders sagged.

You guided the horse toward it, boots crunching into deep snow as you dismounted and tied the reins to the railing beside the porch.

The wind howled louder as you pushed the door open.

Inside, the cabin was dark and cold. A stone fireplace stood along one wall, long dead, while a rough wooden table sat in the center of the room with two uneven chairs.

At least it was shelter.

You stepped inside and shut the door behind you, the storm immediately muffled to a distant roar outside the walls.

For a moment, there was only silence.

Then a voice cut through the darkness.

Low. Sharp.

“Door stays closed if you plan on livin’ through the night.”

You froze.

Bootsteps shifted somewhere in the shadowed corner of the room.

A chair scraped softly across the floor.

Then a revolver lifted into the pale light of the frost-covered window.

The woman holding it stepped forward just enough to be seen.

Hat low over her eyes. Shoulders squared. The gun steady in her hand.

It was Sadie Adler.

Her gaze moved over you slowly, measuring every detail like she was deciding whether you were trouble or just another fool who wandered too far north.

“Cabin was empty when I got here,” Sadie said.

The revolver didn’t lower.

“So you best remember that.”

Outside, the storm slammed against the cabin walls, wind rattling the boards hard enough to make them creak.

Snow was already piling high against the door.

Leaving tonight wasn’t going to be possible.

Sadie’s eyes stayed locked on you for a long moment, unreadable beneath the brim of her hat.

The fire in the hearth was still cold.

The storm outside only grew louder.

And inside the small cabin in the mountains of Ambarino, two strangers stood facing each other in the dim light — neither one willing to lower their guard first.