Melvin wiped snow off his mouth and stood, brushing himself off with that sick grin.

"Just a little 'hot compress.' Don't worry—you won't be cold much longer."

"I never did anything to you... why are you doing this to me?"

"No reason? You—"

Before he could finish, Sally and the others showed up.

The second Melvin spotted them, he dropped the villain act and clutched his stomach like the victim.

"Peyton... I was just trying to give you hot water, warm you up. Why'd you kick me?"

Sally rushed over, ready to defend him, but he stopped her quick—probably scared she'd notice the ugly bruise he'd carved into my ankle.

"It's fine, Sally. Don't blame her. She's delirious from the cold. She hates me—I deserve it."

"Melvin, you're too kind. But kindness on someone like Peyton? She'll never appreciate it. I'll make this right for you today!"

She stormed past him, heading straight for me.

Then she caught sight of my ankle and stopped cold.

"Your... Your foot... what happened? It was just bruised before. Now it's swollen and black—"

I pointed with the last of my strength. "It... It was him—"

He cut me off smooth. "She means I checked her earlier."

"I found her like this," he said, acting all serious. "Must've gotten worse when she slid down the slope."

Then he glanced around, voice slow and heavy. "One thing's clear—Peyton's too busted to hike out. We need to decide what happens next."

Sally's eyes went wide. "You mean..."

"Exactly. We can't haul her down. And if the rescue team finds her, everything we did today blows up. So... we end it here. Say she fell into a crevasse."

Melvin made it sound like some tragic kindness.

The others backed off, faces twisted with fear and doubt.

He doubled down. "Unless you're cool with losing everything—your jobs, your names—you'll stick to the plan."

That sealed it.

Wayne, still wavering, cracked. "We'll do what Melvin says. It's... for Peyton's own good."

Once he caved, the rest followed.

Melvin yanked a rope from his pack, tossed it to Wayne. "We all do it. Together. That way, no one bails."

The rope slipped around my neck—ice-cold.

They moved in, step by step, fear and cruelty tightening like a noose.

I couldn't breathe.

Then—WHUP-WHUP-WHUP. A chopper roared in, getting louder by the second.

A blinding searchlight ripped through the storm and locked on us.

A voice blasted from a loudspeaker, furious and godlike. "Stop!"

They froze.

Above, an orange rescue chopper hovered, blades tearing through the blizzard.

Faces went ghost-white. Nobody dared move.