Sam wasn’t particularly worried about whether Beatrice made it to the New Year’s Eve celebration. Her eyes met Jeff’s; they were both grinning with a complicit excitement.

Interlodge was every skier or snowboarder’s dream condition: when it had snowed so much that the roads closed, but the mountain remained open. Snowfall in itself wasn’t enough to shut down a ski resort, only severe winds, which made chairlifts unsafe to operate. Interlodge therefore meant unbelievable snow, plus having the mountain mostly to yourself—because the road closures kept anyone else from skiing, except the people already in town.

“In that case, we’d better get going.” Sam headed toward the mudroom to pull on her boots and jacket, then grabbed her snowboard, which was covered in stickers and decals. “Who’s coming?”

Sam’s eyes were on her dad, who normally lived for days like this, but he just shook his head. “I’ll let you kids have the mountain to yourselves this morning.”

He said it cheerfully, but Sam couldn’t help noticing how completely tired he looked. There were fine lines crinkling around his eyes, and a new slump to his shoulders.

She glanced over at Nina, who gave an apologetic smile and held up a thick fantasy novel. “I might stay home. Besides, I’ll only slow you down on a day like today.”

Then, to Sam’s horror, Teddy jumped in. “I’d love to come, if you don’t mind.”

“Sure,” she said, after a beat. She couldn’t think of any reasonable way to get rid of him.

They’d started on the Gold Hill chutes, making their way steadily across the mountain. Sam had to grudgingly admit that Teddy was a very good skier. She couldn’t shake him off her tail even if she tried—and she had been trying, all morning.

“We’re heading to the Revelation Bowl, right?” Teddy attempted now.

“Jeff and I are,” Sam said stiffly. “You can rip-cord out on some easier blacks before the hike. Otherwise you’ll have to walk along the ridge for the last five hundred meters carrying your board. Or in your case, skis,” she added pointedly. She’d always found skiers so … conventional.

“I can handle it.” Teddy gave a bold smile. “Unlike you, I learned to ski on terrain that’s actually difficult. The icy, unforgiving, set-an-edge-and-hope-you-don’t-die runs at Stowe.”

Sam winced in mock sympathy. “East Coast skiing? I’m sorry you had to suffer through that.”

“Sam!” Jeff hollered from the chair behind them. “Revelation, right?”

Sam twisted around; her brother was sprawled out on the chair, one leg kicked up onto the seat while the other dangled below, still fixed to his board.

“Absolutely. Race?” she called out in reply.

“Dare?”

“You’re on.”

Teddy glanced back and forth between them. “Have you and Jeff always used that kind of twin-speak?”

“You think that was twin-speak?” Sam scoffed. “That’s just lazy ski-lift talk. When we were kids Jeff and I communicated in complete gibberish. It drove our nanny nuts.”

Teddy smiled beneath his wool neck gaiter. The tip of his nose had gone red from the cold. “Did I misunderstand, or did he just challenge you to a race?”

“Jeff and I always race down Revelation Bowl. The winner gets to make the loser complete a dare.” She chuckled. “Last year after I won, I made him freeze Daphne’s long underwear out in the snow overnight. She was furious the next day.”

They were above the tree line now; the landscape raced along below them in an unbroken sheet of white.

“I’ve heard the ski team at King’s College is surprisingly good given that they aren’t in the mountains.” A smile ghosted Teddy’s lips. “Granted, it is East Coast skiing, but you could still look into it.”

“Why does everyone always assume I’m going to King’s College?” Sam struggled to check her irritation. “Who knows, maybe I won’t go to college at all.”

“You don’t mean that,” Teddy countered, with surprising conviction.

She gave a disinterested shrug. “What’s the point, for someone like me?”

“Someone like you, meaning one of the most influential people on the planet? Someone who actually has the power to make the world a better place?”

“You’re confusing me with my sister. Which is understandable, given that you’ve made out with both of us.” Sam ignored Teddy’s sharp inhale. “Beatrice is already part of Cabinet meetings, is helping to set the national agenda and negotiate treaties. She has power, not me.”

The wind picked up, swaying the chair lightly back and forth. Teddy raised his voice to be heard over it. “Don’t you realize that millions of people look to you for inspiration? You have such a unique position, Samantha—you can use it to drive people to action, to spotlight issues you care about—”

“You’re talking about advocacy, not policy-making or governing,” she cut in. “Which means being a glorified cheerleader. Throwing a bunch of fancy parties and asking people to donate to my cause of the week? I don’t think so.” That was the type of thing Daphne wanted to do with her life. Not Samantha.

“It’s more than glorified cheerleading if it causes real change,” Teddy countered. “Or what would you rather do?”