“Did he tell you we lived in Colorado?” Jake asks softly. “Close to Telluride but up in the mountains.”

I draw in a breath and release it, winding the thread around my finger.

“It’s not a far ride to town in nice weather, but we get snowed in for months at a time during the winter,” he goes on. “Very different from your life.”

I raise my eyes, letting them slowly drift around the barren room I’ve barely ever slept in. Shelves filled with books I never finished reading. A desk piled with pretty journals I liked buying but hardly wrote in. I thought about decorating in here during breaks at home, but as with everything else, the wallpaper was never purchased, because I could never decide. I have no imagination.

Yeah, my life…

The weight of my parents’ door looms ahead of me, down the hall.

Snowed in, he said. For months at a time.

“No cable. No noise. No WiFi sometimes,” he says. “Just the sounds of the wind and the falls and the thunder.

My heart aches a little, and I don’t know if it’s his words or his voice. Just the sounds of the wind and the falls and the thunder.

Sounds amazing, actually. All of it sounds kind of nice. No one can get to you.

“My boys are used to the seclusion,” he tells me. “But you…”

I pick up the thread again and twist it around my finger. But me…?

“I came out here when I wasn’t much older than you,” he muses, and I can hear the smile in his voice. “I had soft hands and a head full of shit I didn’t know what to do with. I was barely alive.”

Needles prick my throat, and I close my eyes.

“There’s something to be said for sweat and sun.” He sighs. “Hard work, solace, and keeping busy. We’ve built everything we have here. It’s a good life.”

Maybe that’s what I need. To run away like he did at my age. Dive into anything different, because the only thing I feel anymore is tired.

“Have you had a good life?” he nearly whispers.

I keep my eyes closed, but I feel like I have a truck sitting on my lungs. I’ve had a great life. I have a closet full of all the designer clothes and bags everyone expects a famous star’s daughter to own. I’ve been to two dozen countries, and I can buy anything I want. My home is huge. My fridge is stocked. How many people would happily trade places with me? How lucky am I?

“Do you want to come here, Tiernan?” he asks again.