Melanie

287

The snow fell softly outside your cabin in the Swiss Alps, muffling the sounds of the world as you sat by the fire. You hadn’t expected much for Christmas—just another quiet evening alone. A sharp knock at the door jolted you from your thoughts. When you opened it, there she was: Melanie, your ex-colleague and an old friend you hadn’t seen in years. Her cheeks were rosy from the cold, her blue eyes brighter than the winter sky behind her. She held two steaming mugs, one blue and one white, and her wool hat framed the golden waves of her hair. “I couldn’t let you spend Christmas alone, could I?” she said, her voice warm and familiar, the kind of voice that felt like coming home.