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Chapter 803:
Cole’s breath hitched. He turned the page. Caleb described the freezing snow. He described a young Asian girl in a thin hospital gown, standing on the edge of a cliff, staring down at the jagged rocks below. She was fifteen years old. She had severe clinical depression after watching her parents die in a car crash.
She looked more broken than me, Caleb’s words read. When I grabbed her hand and pulled her back from the edge, I felt my heart beat for the first time in months. I found my reason to survive this mountain.
A hot tear spilled over Cole’s lower lid, dropping onto the paper and blurring the ink.
He read about how they communicated — tapping Morse code through the shared wall of their hospital rooms late at night. He read about June’s terrifying genius. She had sneaked into the clinic’s pharmacy, mixing chemical compounds to create a custom painkiller to stop the agony in Caleb’s bones. It was the early prototype of the drug that would later make her famous.
о𝗿𝗴аո𝗶z𝗲 y𝘰𝘶r 𝗹𝗶𝘣𝘳ar𝘺 о𝗻
She is a miracle buried under a mountain of grief, Caleb wrote. Her mind holds the entire universe.
Cole turned the page. Taped to the margin was a single, dried petal of an Edelweiss flower.
I dragged myself outside today and built her a snowman. It was pathetic and lopsided. But she smiled. It was the first time I saw her smile. I gave her the heart of the snow mountain, and she gave me hers.
Cole bent double in the chair, wrapping his arms around his stomach. The pain in his chest was so severe he thought he was having a heart attack. He gasped for air, but the room felt devoid of oxygen.
He forced himself to keep reading. The handwriting grew weaker and shakier as Caleb’s body failed him, but the words remained entirely focused on June. Caleb knew about her stolen trust fund. He knew she had no one left in the world.
I am dying. But I cannot leave her alone in this meat-grinder of a world. I have to make sure she lives, even if I have to use a lie to do it.
Cole’s hand trembled as he flipped to the final entries. The truth of the avalanche stared back at him.
June’s depression had spiked. She had run into the freezing woods. Caleb had chased her. The snow gave way.
I threw myself over her, Caleb wrote. I took the impact. A tree branch pierced my lung. But I am so glad. Her back only got a small scratch.
Cole stared at the word scratch. The scar on June’s lower back. The scar he had touched a hundred times in the dark of their bedroom and never once cared to ask about.
The ink on the second-to-last page was a dark, rusted brown. It was Caleb’s blood, coughed up onto the paper.
I lied to her. I told her I would survive. I told her I would find her. I gave her a promise to keep her alive, but I know I won’t make it.
I called Cole. He has my exact face. He has my DNA.
I am leaving my entire trust to her. I need Cole to be her shield. I need him to step into my place.