She breathed in again, rolled to her knees and planted her hands deep into the snow, until she felt the ground and then, after counting to three, shoved herself up.
She didn’t waste time feeling relief or in congratulating herself. This was bad. Worse, even, than she’d let herself believe when she’d ventured from the Honda. Yes, she quite possibly had erred in judgment.
Now, her decision to tread through the storm instead of staying put, where she would have had protection from the wind and snow, felt ludicrous and shortsighted and...well, stupid. Because no, she still did not see that light.
She had been so sure, but could she have imagined it? Perhaps. Especially with her deep desire to locate shelter, yeah, it was possible.
Meredith stopped. Should she turn around and try to find the car? Did that even make sense? The return trip was sure to be easier, since the wind would blow against her back and push her forward, but she wasn’t positive she’d be able to locate the car again. Confusion swept in, mixing with her exhaustion and panic, making it nearly impossible to form any decision other than to do just as she was: stand in place. And that...well, that would seal her fate.
Right. Keep moving.
She started to walk again, forcing her body through the unyielding storm, her vision once again aimed in the direction she’d seen the light. If it hadn’t been a mirage, she would see it eventually. But she couldn’t stop again. No matter what, she couldn’t stop.
One step. Two steps. Three, four, five and six.
When she reached ten steps, she started over with one. Anything to keep walking. If she stopped again, that would be that. And she was pretty sure if she fell again, she’d curl up in a ball and close her eyes. Because oh, every ounce of her body yearned for rest.
On her third set of ten steps, acceptance that, yes, she might be facing the last moments of her life seeped in.
How was that possible? How could this be it? How could she be done? What had she accomplished and what would she be remembered for? What dreams had she fulfilled? Did even one person on the face of the earth really know her?
The answer to that last part came swiftly. How could anyone else really know her when she didn’t yet know herself? This trip was supposed to be the official, if belated, start of that journey. A time to make sense of all she’d learned, of what she’d thought was true balanced against the real truth. And then, over the next year, the rest of the pieces would fall into place.
That had been the plan. Not this fight for survival.
Until her early twenties, she hadn’t had to fight for much of anything of importance. She and her two brothers were raised in an affluent household. Their parents were strict but attentive. Her childhood was filled with private schools, extensive travel and chauffeur-driven cars. Extracurricular activities were carefully chosen by her parents, and success in school was demanded more than encouraged.
Meredith’s grades were always exemplary. She liked to learn, so that part of the equation came naturally. And yes, there were moments she wished her parents would loosen their will in favor of hers, but mostly she towed the line. She went to the college of their choosing, majoring in business as they expected. She fed her love of art with a class here and there, trips to various museums and devoting hours of nonstudy time to sketching and painting.
During her final year of college, she fell head over heels for a man who did not fit in her parents’ neat and tidy box of expectations for their only daughter.
Alarico—Rico—Lucio worked as a mechanic, but he had big dreams and, she believed, the will to fulfill them. He drew her into his world quickly, so fast her head spun. He came from a large and boisterous family that had made Meredith feel at home the second she met them. They accepted her without question, as one of their own, simply because she was Rico’s girlfriend.
And with love, everything changed. For the first time in Meredith’s life, she had something to fight for. A future she wanted with a man she adored. She hoped that given enough time, her parents would come around and embrace her relationship with Rico, just as his family had.
There was a short period where she believed they tried and that they wanted her to be happy. Rico saw it differently, though, and he worried that eventually, their relationship would cause irreparable harm between her and her parents. He refused to separate Meredith from her family, and he refused to be viewed as a second-class citizen. Two strikes, not three.
But they were brutal strikes.
He ended their relationship, swearing that he would love her forever, and that someday, he would return to her as a man her family would respect and honor. His words were heartfelt, his voice sincere...his decision final.
The best year of her life ended in her greatest heartbreak. She blamed her parents and their unrealistic ideals of perfection for pushing Rico away. She blamed her brothers for their choice in “acceptable” mates, and she blamed the universe.
She missed Rico. Her heart ached for him, but she respected his decision and did not try to contact him. There was some pride there, as well. She’d hoped he’d miss her as much as she missed him, give up on his insistence to wait and come to her. He did not.
After graduation, she found some backbone and instead of going to work for her father as had been the original plan, landed the stager position with little trouble. Surprising, really, since she had a degree in business, but oh, had she been happy. The job paid more than the going rate, which pleased her, and she found a small but nice apartment to live in.
For the next handful of years, she’d worked hard to create a life that she believed was of her own making. She’d been happy, except for missing Rico. She never stopped hoping that one day he would reach whatever level of success he needed and come back to her as he’d promised.
She had waited for him, day in and day out, for...years. Her heart held hostage, her hopes in limbo. And all for nothing. Absolutely nothing. None of it was real.
As it turned out, her job wasn’t real, either. Well, the work was, she supposed, but she hadn’t gotten the job on her own accord. The great and mighty Arthur Jensen had paved the way and was even “helping” with Meredith’s salary. Tidbits of information that a tipsy coworker with loose lips had accidentally slipped at a company get-together less than three weeks ago.
She hadn’t aced the job interview to win the job. She hadn’t earned her bonuses over the years. All she was, all she’d ever been, was the privileged daughter of a successful man who had the leverage and the will to pull the right strings at the right time.
The second she confirmed the information was true, she quit her job. Then, humiliated and angry, resentful, too, she confronted her father. Initially, he’d tried to pacify her, but as their argument grew more heated, he called her “soft and sheltered” and stated that if he hadn’t stepped in, she wouldn’t have survived a year.
In a burst of emotion, she told her father that she was tired of living a life that he deemed appropriate and that due to him, she’d lost Rico. The best man she’d ever known. That it was his fault. Because her father had been blind to her happiness, because all he saw was a man with a blue-collar job who came from a blue-collar family, and wouldn’t that be embarrassing, to have to introduce Rico—a mechanic—as his daughter’s boyfriend? Or worse, as his son-in-law?
Her father wasn’t a warm and cuddly man, but he wasn’t a cruel man, either. No, Arthur Jensen was a decisive man. He formed decisions quickly, based on all available information combined with a high-functioning intuition, and he rarely backed down. Meredith’s words, along with her emotional state, must have hit a nerve. After years of staying silent, her father told her the truth about the man she claimed to love.
Rather than accepting an entry-level position at one of Arthur’s companies—which