Chapter 216

• The morning light was pale when I woke, the kind that hinted the season had shifted in ways that were more than just a change in the calendar. I pulled back the curtain and saw the sky resting heavy with gray, the edges soft as if painted in watercolor. For weeks the air had whispered of winter, but that morning it had fully arrived. The roofs across the street glistened faintly, as if waiting to be crowned.
• Julian was still sleeping, his arm curled loosely around me. For a moment I did not move, because something in me wanted to keep that warmth untouched. Yet the pull of the window, of the strange stillness outside, became too strong. I slipped out of bed and stood barefoot on the wooden floor, watching as tiny flecks began to drift from the sky.
• Snow. The first of the year.