I pressed my nose up against Donner’s. He snuffled softly and blew hot air on my face.

“You have reindeer breath,” I murmured.

He blinked slowly, and I scratched the top of his head.

I would miss them. If Frost took me home, if Santa took me home, if I ended up freezing to death tonight—it didn’t matter. I’d miss every last reindeer no matter how I left them.

I buried my finger in Donner’s fur and tried to relax into his steady warmth.

The stable door opened. I looked up to see Joy, her cloud of red hair tamed into a messy bun on top of her head. Ringlets fell down onto her cheeks, but they weren’t quite enough to soften the anxiety on her face.

“Hey,” she said softly.

“Come on in.”

She stopped on her way over to scratch the reindeer. I was pretty sure by this point that it was impossible not to at least pat someone’s nose while in this room. Comet leaned into her touch with closed eyes, chuffing in happiness.

“I didn’t see you at dinner,” Joy said. She bit her lip. “Is everything okay? Everyone’s talking.”

“About the power outage yesterday?”

She nodded. No one besides the people who’d been there last night knew exactly what had happened, and the Clauses had sworn the rest of us to secrecy.

Felix had objected, saying that everyone had their suspicions anyway and deserved to know, but Santa and Noelle had shut him down within seconds. Noelle had hissed something about causing a mass hysteria and Santa had crossed his arms and agreed that things were better kept quiet, and, while I knew Felix disagreed, I also knew he wouldn’t break Santa’s confidence no matter what he thought of it.

“Everything’s okay,” I said. “Comet here just kept throwing tantrums when I tried to leave, and I had a big lunch anyway.”

She smiled sheepishly. “I guess everyone’s a little on edge.”

“Everyone gets on edge every time the power goes out,” I said. “All you magical people ever consider that electricity is just going to be spotty up at the North Pole?”

I laughed, and was amazed at how easy it was to pretend that everything was normal and we were all safe.

Here, in the warm dark stable with the reindeer and one of the most unexpected friends I’d ever had, it was hard not to feel like everything would be okay in the end.

I felt a sudden surge of gratitude for Joy’s friendship, and Felix’s, and Lucy’s and Nate’s and everyone else’s. I’d worked and eaten with and talked to so many elves since I’d arrived.

I wasn’t going to be lifelong friends with most of them. I probably wasn’t going to see any of them again after I left the North Pole—however that happened. But they felt like real friends, and that was something I hadn’t experienced in a while.

“Thanks for checking on me.”

She dug into her pocket. “That’s not all I did,” she said, pulling out something wrapped in a napkin. She pulled back the wrapping to reveal a slightly crumbly sugar cookie topped with raspberry frosting.

“Aww.” I accepted the cookie, took a bite, and then snatched away from Donner before he could steal it.

Joy burst into giggles. I tapped Donner on the nose. He blinked and looked casually away from me.

“They’re so spoiled,” Joy said.

“I wish my cats had a stable like this.” I picked off a small crumble of cookie and fed it to Donner, who inhaled it and started nosing at my shoulder for more.

“You have cats?”

“Not mine,” I said. “Just strays. I feed them but there’s never enough food or love to go around.”

Joy’s forehead wrinkled just slightly. “Strays?”

“Yeah, stray cats,” I said. Her face stayed confused. “Like, cats that don’t have homes or families. They live on the streets and eat mice or whatever they can hunt.”

She looked like she was about to cry at the thought. I patted her arm.

“Hey, it’s okay,” I said. “Our worlds are different, remember? The cats are used to it.”

“We don’t have stray animals at the North Pole,” she said, which I’d already guessed. “How horrible.”

I couldn’t imagine what it would have been like to grow up here, secure in the knowledge that all cats had warm laps and Santa would always be there to save the day. Joy’s naiveté had surprised me more than once, but I envied the way she saw the world.

I had to do my part to help Santa keep them safe and protected. The Workshop was strange and overly cheery, but it didn’t annoy me anymore. It was unique, and amazing, and I would feel better if I went home knowing it was safe.

If I went home.

The word had crept into my thoughts more and more lately. I smiled at Joy and scratched Donner’s head.

Had I really missed home all that much? Had I really left anything behind that I couldn’t recreate here—and in a way that would be brighter and better?

It was a dizzying thought, the idea of staying here, but it wasn’t a thought I could even explore until the Workshop was safe from Frost.

Reluctantly, I pulled my hand away from Donner’s thick fur.

“I’ve got to go,” I said. “Felix is teaching me how to mix reindeer feed in the kitchens. I guess he talked the cooks into giving him an hour or two. I thought they just ate hay, but whatever.”

“The feed gives them more nutrients than the hay can provide,” Joy said. “Felix takes it really seriously.”

“Felix takes nothing seriously,” I said.

She laughed, and I wrapped up the cookie, and we parted ways in the hall.

The reindeer had to stay warm and dry. Joy had to stay in her world of sugar cookies and happy endings. And I had to do everything in my power to keep them all safe.