New Year s Eve
The wind howled a mournful dirge around Blackwood Cabin, a fitting soundtrack for the dying hours of the old year. Inside, Liam tried to project warmth, coaxing a reluctant fire in the stone hearth while Chloe, draped in a chunky knit sweater, sipped champagne and watched the digital clock tick towards midnight. Their friend, Mark, ever the optimist, was already halfway through his third glass, babbling about resolutions he almost certainly wouldn't keep. "Another year, another chance to pretend we're not just hurtling towards oblivion!" Mark slurred, raising his glass. "Eloquent as ever, Mark," Liam chuckled, though a shiver, unrelated to the draft, traced its way down his spine. The cabin, rented for a 'rustic New Year's escape,' was more isolated than advertised. Snow had been falling relentlessly since dusk, blanketing the narrow dirt track leading in and out, burying it under a thick, impassable white shroud. "Did you hear that?" ...