I scooped her up into my arms, her small body shivering violently against mine as I ran toward the dark shelter of the pine forest.

The snow grew deeper, pulling at our legs and slowing our pace to a crawl.

I looked back and saw the yellow beam of Vance’s flashlight cutting through the falling snow, bouncing closer and closer.

He was desperate, driven by the knowledge that his entire life was collapsing around him.

Suddenly, a dark figure materialized from the shadows of the pines ahead of us.

I froze, pulling the girls behind a thick trunk, my heart stopping.

“Step back, Elena,” a calm voice commanded.

Marcus Vale stepped into the open, his tactical jacket covered in a light dusting of snow and his weapon raised.

He did not look at us; his eyes were fixed on the path behind us where Vance was stumbling through the drifts.

Vance rounded the corner of the path, his flashlight beam swinging wildly until it hit Marcus.

“Drop the weapon, Arthur,” Marcus said, his voice level and entirely devoid of fear.