Two days before New Year’s, the first snow had cleared.

On both sides of the highway, snow pressed down on the mountains and pine branches. Everything was a hard, blinding white.

In winter, most of the river had frozen over. Only where the sunlight hit did clear water slap against the bank, glittering—golden ripples jumping on the surface.

A black van sped straight toward Riverwen.

Francesca sat inside, face turned to the window, her ...