Once Roxanne navigated through the congestion of the boroughs and made her way out of the heart of New York City, the highway northward opened up. It was the day before Christmas Eve, and judging by the scarcity of cars on the deserted road Roxanne guessed that any other holiday travelers heading into the mountains had already made their trek up north. Or, maybe the Vermont backwoods weren’t a popular holiday destination and Roxanne really was the only one cabin-bound. That she could believe easier than good luck commuting only a few days before the biggest holiday of the year. Nevertheless, once the sour taste the conversation with Hunter had left in her mouth had faded away, the drive, too, had become noticeably more pleasant and Roxanne stopped pouting about her situation. She and Hunter were finally breaking up. Well, that was fine. The trees became denser and the black road gave way to pavement that had the slight silver sheen of fallen snow that had been repeatedly driven over and salted, signaling that she was leaving the urban areas behind and getting closer to her destination.

Roxanne begrudgingly acknowledged—even if just to herself—that it was surprisingly beautiful, even if it lacked the sparkle and glitz of winter in the City with its Rockefeller Center tree and Macy’s light display. Frost-covered evergreen trees lined both sides of the road and a light dust of snowfall fell as she wound her way through upstate New York.

Roxanne stopped once for gas and coffee in Albany, shivering despite her expensive fleece-lined jacket that proved to be no match for the real cold. Otherwise the drive had been uneventful. Quiet. Peaceful, even. Roxanne was not familiar with the type of silence that came from being truly away from Manhattan. It wasn’t so much a noise thing as it was a calmness that settled over everything and wrapped itself around you like a warm, comforting blanket. Even on the road there was no hustle and bustle, no car horns, no constant flurry of moment. Roxanne loosed a sigh, momentarily startled by the sound of her own breathing. She loved the City, but had completely forgotten what it was like to be away from it—not the city proper, but the city as a thing in unto itself. She couldn’t remember the last time she had felt this stillness. There were no impatient taxis, no speed walking pedestrians, no buildings and signs and other evidence of humanity obstructing her view of the natural world outside her window. Every once in a while a lone diner would pass, or a sign announcing a turnoff, but otherwise she was completely alone— just her, the car, and the open road.

If it weren’t so quaint, she thought, remembering the word Spencer had chosen, it might actually be a nice reprieve. Like a spa day, but without the massage or the cucumber water. Of course, she could forget someone getting her coffee order right in these parts, much less finding a decent salon. And then there was her family to think about. They’d be full of nosy questions and snide remarks about her lifestyle; of that she was certain. Her parents had never been big fans of Roxanne’s career choice in fashion, or her taste in male models. But it was only a few days, and she’d be back to civilization with her family obligations met for at least another three years. Roxanne set the cruise control and let her body melt into the car’s heated seat, relaxing in a manner she hadn’t in a long, long time. A tension she hadn’t known she’d been carrying in her shoulders eased and she rolled her neck, enjoying the sensation of the pressure giving way as it cracked and loosened.

The car’s radio was still set to whatever default station the dealership had left it on and had long since turned to static, but the volume was too low to interrupt Roxanne’s wandering thoughts and she hadn’t bothered to change it. Instead, she had ruminated on every topic imaginable for the past couple of hours, her mind moving through everything from her to-do list, to curiosities on what types of probing questions her parents might ask about her life, to her recent disappointing conversation with Hunter, to making necessary and thoughtful revisions to her next five-year plan, and wondering what Vogue’s editor in chief had thought of her designs. When she finally exhausted these, her thoughts were free, and she was surprised to find that she’d thought her way straight through the evening. The sky had faded from blue to purple, and was darkening steadily into night. Roxanne pressed the button on the steering wheel to first search for an available broadcasting channel, and then raise the volume to an audible level.

Blizzard inbound, was the first thing she heard, said importantly by the telltale gravelly voice of a radio DJ after a brief series of alert chimes. The man’s voice on the radio continued its warning, listing off names of towns and landmarks that Roxanne had never heard of as he prattled about road conditions and impending weather with an unnecessary amount of cheer. She paid it no attention at first, and then, thinking better of it when she remembered that she was, in fact, driving the very roads being described, used her thumb to adjust the speaker volume from the button on the steering wheel so that she could listen intently.

Stay off the roads tonight if you can, folks. If you’ve gotta be out, don’t forget your tire chains and flares and make sure you’re dressed warm. It’s gonna be white out conditions before you know it, and with the holiday coming up, I’m afraid Santa and his flying reindeer will be the only ones getting out and about for the next few days.

As Roxanne listened, she realized she hadn't even considered how these things might affect her drive. What's more, she only vaguely understood what things like tire chains were and certainly didn't own any; much less have them with her or could stop somewhere now to sort it all out. She had been so lost in her thoughts that she hadn’t noticed the light snowfall had become heavier and the sides of the road were now covered in a blanket of white, or that the roadside trees that had looked like an idyllic Christmas card scene now looked sharp and dangerous with icicle tinsel. She turned on the defroster, and then gripped the steering wheel tightly, inadvertently pressing the volume button with her palm. The radio’s volume increased abruptly, shattering what was left of the silence and destroying Roxanne’s previous dabble with inner peace.

One more time for those listeners just tuning in, the announcer boomed, his polished radio vibrato hammering into Roxanne’s ears on her now too-loud radio, we’re expecting at least a good 18 inches tonight, more in the mountain areas, and it won’t be stopping anytime soon. Expect roads to be closed north of Burlington, and forget the mountain passes. Buckle in, folks. It's going to be a very cold and a very white Christmas. Ho ho ho!

The tight feeling in her neck had returned, and by the time the DJ’s voice had been replaced by a new tune—Winter Wonderland, Roxanne realized with a grimace—the snow was coming down so heavily that she could barely see the front of her car’s hood. Visibility was pretty much nonexistent, so she slowed to a crawl and flipped the windshield wipers as fast as they would go. The defroster was on full blast and barely making a dent in the frost accumulation on her windshield. She checked the in-dash navigation screen and saw that she was less than twenty miles from the turnoff to her family’s cabin. For a moment she felt the sweetness of relief, but it was short-lived when she checked her phone and discovered she had no signal…and that her battery was nearly dead. She must have been so distracted after the call with Hunter that she’d forgotten to attach it to the charger, not that it would do her a lot of good without cell service.

Roxanne grit her teeth and wished she had laser vision to cut through the sheet of white in front of her. If she could make it just a few more miles, she’d be there. If not, well, she just hoped that one of the two people she’d told where she was going would think to check on her and report her missing at some point before her body froze over in the Vermont tundra. Of course, Hunter was still in Europe and Spencer already imagined she’d be roughing in the wild so he probably expected she’d be out of reach anyway. Her parents would just assume she’d ghosted them.

Great. She imagined that meme of Jack Nicholson from The Shining, frozen in the topiary.

The snow kept falling faster and thicker, and the BMW’s slick city tires were having a hard time maintaining their grip on the icy road. The speedometer was hovering just below the 5mph mark and Roxanne was entering the last stretch of her drive when a dark blur moved suddenly across the windshield. It could just as easily have been a tree as a deer, but it was wider than a tree and larger than any deer she’d ever seen. Still, anything that cast a shadow that size was definitely not something that Roxanne should be driving toward. Out of instinct she stomped her foot on the brake, and immediately felt the car give way beneath her as it slid out of control. She spun once, then twice, each time skidding loudly to the right. Roxanne screamed in fright, and just as the car was making its third rotation the driver’s side slammed into something hard and unseen, causing an abrupt stop. Her head hit the window, a curious sound of sleigh bells jingled in her ears, and then everything white turned instantly to black.