Last Christmas (Private 0.60)

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sight of Easton's Gothic buildings, suddenly illuminated, should have calmed her. Ariana had always loved

the way the campus looked in the early morning. The nightmares always woke her well before Noelle stirred,

and she often sat at her desk to admire the view. Easton seemed so noble, so pristine in the hours before it was

corrupted with students.

But instead of looking serene and untouched, the looming buildings seemed menacing, threatening.

She stopped in front of the first basement window. Something above her had moved. She looked up at the

rows of windows that stretched above her. On the fourth floor, a shadow was moving in front of the window.

Startled, Ariana flung herself toward the building and pressed her back up against the wall. She checked her

watch. Five fifteen a.m. Who would be up at this hour? Trying to control her breathing, she titled her head

back to stare up at the window above.

The figure paused, its back to the window. In the early morning light, she recognized the dark hair. The

familiar navy argyle sweater. It was Sergei. Just Sergei. Relieved, Ariana ducked down and threw the window

open. She tossed everything through the opening and onto the desk she'd moved underneath the window that

morning. She heard the sound of the plastic bottle rolling across the floor.

Quickly, Ariana crawled through the window, dropped down to the desk, and then to the floor. Shoulders

rising and falling with her rapid breath, she chided herself for letting her curiosity get the best of her. Sergei

could have seen her, not to mention any one of

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the other students staying behind during break. She had to be more careful.

And she had to know where Daniel was. Hands shaking, she pulled out Mr. Holmes's phone and dialed.

After one ring, a young female voice chirped in her ear. "Good morning, Winter Lodge Resort. This is

Alessandra."

Ariana cleared her throat. "Yes, I'm trying to get in touch with one of your guests," she whispered into the

receiver, glancing across the basement. Thomas was still sprawled out on the dusty floor, his head resting on

her coat. "Daniel Ryan?"

"One moment, Miss. I'll try his room."

"Thanks," Ariana croaked.

It's fine, she told herself as the harsh ring echoed from the receiver. It's going to be fine.

Still, she felt sick to her stomach. If he picked up, that meant he had no idea what she'd done or whom she'd