Page 41 of Mountain Impact

But a day before their next scheduled meeting, Pierre had gone up to the Bossons―and never come home.

All these questions came rushing to her again now, as they had that very first day, standing in the Chamonix morgue.

What did I do wrong?

How could I miss this?

There was no obvious answer. No closure to be had. As a psychologist, as a professional, she knew her feelings of guilt and grief were natural, and that going on with her work was the best way to deal with them.

But it’s hard.

And something else was bothering her. In the two days since the helicopter up to the Bossons, Drake hadn’t called her nor come to see her.

She knew she was being unreasonable. There were any number of reasons why this could be the case. He might be busy with his job. He might be confused after her hot-cold-hot behavior. He might need some time alone. All completely valid reasons. And yet, here she was, pining away.

She opened her fridge, as if it might magically have filled itself in her absence, but of course it was still shockingly empty. She made a mental note to stop by the Sherpa store the next day―maybe get herself some fruit and vegetables.

For tonight, she was going to order in. She shuffled the take-away menus on her counter.

Sushi it is.

Less than twenty minutes later, her doorbell rang. Chamonix was a small town.

She buzzed the delivery person in without bothering to ask who it was and moved to wait by the open door. In her hand she held her card and a five euro note―she’d delivered pizzas while studying at university, and knew it took several great tips to make up for the number of people who didn’t tip at all.

Isolde’s mouth fell open as Drake stepped out of the elevator, a small bag from the sushi shop hanging from his arm.

“What are you doing here?”

“I brought your food.”

“How―”

“I paid the young woman and told her I’d bring it up.”

Isolde frowned. “And she believed you? How did she know you weren’t just going to steal my sushi?”

“What can I say? I look trustworthy,” Drake laughed, handing over her bag. “I also tipped her generously, enough for her to risk getting a call from a hungry, angry customer.”

Isolde smiled. “You should probably come inside, though I’m not sure I ordered enough for both of us.”

“I’m not hungry,” Drake said, just as his stomach rumbled. He had the grace to look sheepish. “Okay, maybe a bit hungry. But I know there’s nothing in our fridge except ketchup and maybe some old cheese, and really I just … I wanted to see you.”

Isolde closed the door behind them.

“I’m glad you came,” she said. They were too old to dance around their feelings.

“I wanted to talk to you and see how you’re doing. I could tell how hard the trip on the mountains was for you.”

“I’m okay. I’ve been feeling a bit lost but I think … no, I know, it’s all going to be okay. How about you? You look tired.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t call. We had a couple busy days―didn’t get much sleep last night, looking for a missing family of hikers.”

That answers one question.

“Did you find them? Are they okay?” She wasn’t sure she wanted to hear the answer.

He nodded. “They’re okay. They’ll probably buy better shoes before they try something like this again.”