Their group had been tight-knit. Two boys and three girls. None had known each other before camp but now they knew they’d be friends forever.

Forever. Forever had proven to be fragile for the three remaining teenage girls standing around the campfire holding hands, matching red rope bracelets dangling. Fingers clasped tight, they fought tears. Their numbers were dwindling. First Sam had left and thenRory.Elizabeth didn’t have Sam’s address butRoryhad given his freely so she’d written him and told him how much she missed him. Every day when mail arrived she rushed to the counselor’s office to see if he’d written. No correspondence from her mother. Not a card or letter from Rory. She’d grown accustomed to her mother’s silence since Jeff’s death, but Rory’s silence stung.

Tomorrow Joan would leave and soon Robin would go. Elizabeth prayed they didn’t abandon her like the others.

Tears ran down Robin’s face as she shook her downcast head. “I swear I’m going to write and call and visit. I know we’ve not heard from Rory, but I will be different. I’m not going to forget you guys.”

Joan nodded. “Me, too. I’m not like Rory. I promise I won’t forget.” She squeezed Elizabeth’s hand a little harder. “I’m sorry Rory didn’t love you enough to stay connected.”

Elizabeth wasn’t such a young fool that she didn’t realize Rory was weak and needed support or that Joan wanted him. In here she’d been his support. But out in the real world, there was no telling whom he’d turned to. And she didn’t want to lose him. She loved him. She’d already lost so much. “Please don’t forget me.”

Joan frowned. “I will be different. I won’t forget.”

“Me, either,” Robin said. “It will be different with us.”

It will be different with us.

The words swirled in Elizabeth’s head. But when she turned to hug her friends, they were gone.

She was alone.

She searched the circle frantically for Robin and Joan but couldn’t find them.

From the woods an owl hooted. She stared into the dense ring of trees expecting one of her friends. But there was no one.

And when she turned back to the campfire, the embers had died and darkness swooped on her like a net.

Greer sat up in bed, her heart racing, and sweat matting her hair against her forehead. She dragged shaking fingers through her hair and allowed a sigh to shudder from her.

The other night she’d dreamed of the accident and now Shady Grove. Rory. Tonight’s party. Both events had triggered too many past losses.

When she’d come to Bonneville she’d made the choice to put the past behind her. And she had. It had taken time to build herself up but she had. She’d not only learned how to work on the estate but how to run it. She was Bonneville. She was not the frightened teen at Shady Grove.

And still her hands shook. And her heart raced.

Sara woke up in stages. Her head pounded and her mouth was as dry as cotton. She pushed up from the floor, her brain confused. She couldn’t figure out where she was now.

Moistening dry lips, she steadied herself as she drew in air. Cold, refreshing air, to the point of bracing. Confused, she searched the gray metal room. Patches of frost clung to the walls. Where was she?

She rubbed her chilled arms as she rose. The cold floor burned into her bare feet and she discovered her shoes were gone.

She drew her designer jacket closed, but its summer-weight fabric was a paltry match against the cold. It had been designed to withstand the Texas summer heat, not a Montana winter.

She studied the windowless room. Not more than ten by ten, it had the look of a large industrial freezer. But no meat hung from hooks, no frozen foods stocked the shelves, no ice blocks flanked the walls.

The room was completely clean save for the bits of ice and frosting clinging to the walls.

“Oh, God!” She ran to the door, silk stockings sticking to the cold floor and ripping as she moved. She pounded on the door. “Let me out! There’s been a mistake!”

It couldn’t have been the man. He’d been normal. And she’d vetted him completely, calling his contacts back East and doing a complete check on him. He couldn’t have done this to her. It made no sense.

The cold burrowed deeper into her bones. She pounded harder on the door. “Let me out! Please!”

After minutes of silence, the chill demanded she generate warmth in her body. Moving around the room, she searched for another way out, slamming her fist against the walls until her hands burned from the cold. There was no escape from this icy prison.

Returning to the door, she beat on it with her fist until she couldn’t raise her arm anymore.

“Who is doing this to me?”

Her answer was a blast of cold air into the vault. She shivered, her silk blouse little help against the bone-gnawing cold.

So where was she? How had she gotten here? “Think, Sara. Think.”

She struggled to remember the man she’d seen last. He’d wanted retail space for restaurants. He’d not thrown off one signal triggering worry or making her think twice. He’d carried a cooler in the trunk of his car, and it had been stocked with bottles of cold water. She’d gladly accepted the water. Though she’d grown accustomed to the Texas summer heat, she’d drank too much last night, and was thirsty. She’d drained the bottle.

They’d taken a dozen steps toward the warehouse when fatigue settled in her bones. At first she’d blamed it on the heat, but the lethargy had rushed through her, draining all her strength. When her legs had given way, strong arms had caught her.

And then she’d woken up here.

Hot tears burning her eyes, she tilted her head back against the wall. “Why are you doing this? I don’t know you.”

Her answer was the whoosh of the cold air flowing in the vents.

For a moment she closed her eyes. The cold sapped her energy as the heat had earlier. It drew her inward and coaxed her to shut out the world and draw into herself.

“You like the cold, don’t you?” The soft, soothing voice came over a loudspeaker.

Her eyes opened. “Who’s there?”

“You’ve always been drawn to the cold. Remember that winter when the snows were so heavy, and you couldn’t resist going out into the drifts?”

She blew on her bluish fingertips. “That was a long time ago. I was wrong to go into the snow.”

“You weren’t wrong. In fact, it was probably the first time in your life you did something right. It was the first time you followed our true path.”

“My true path is not to freeze to death.” She flexed fingers and then shook them hoping to keep the blood circulating. That’s when she noticed the red rope bracelet around her wrist. With a trembling hand she touched the uneven braided thread.

Immediately, her mind tripped back to the day she’d received a similar bracelet. She’d hated that bracelet as much as she hated this one.

Gripping it in her hand, she ripped it from her wrist and tossed it on the icy floor. “I’m supposed to live my life.”

“Do you remember why you went into the cold?”

She thought about the package she’d received on Monday. Sick. Twisted. “I don’t know who you are but I don’t want to play this sick game. I want you to let me out of here!”

“You don’t really want out, do you? Aren’t you tired of struggling each day just to get up in the morning? You work hard at looking like you’re happy but you’re not.”

“I’m fine.” Her teeth chattered. “I’ve made the best of my life. Ask anyone.”

Soft laughter rumbled over the speaker. “You can say it as many times as you like, Sara. But we both know the truth. You don’t want to live. How could you want to live after what you did?”