her, and she could no longer see the dark
bulk of his figure. Now even his voice was fading. She hugged herself with her arms,
head bent down, her whole body shaking. She whispered, "Stefan—"
"Oh, and one more thing," Damon's voice came back. "You asked earlier about
my brother. Don't bother looking for him, Elena. I killed him last night."
Her head jerked up, but there was nothing to see, only the dizzying whiteness,
which burned her nose and cheeks and clogged her eyelashes. It was only then, as
the fine grains settled on her skin, that she realized what they were: snowflakes.
It was snowing on the first of November. Overhead, the sun was gone.
Two
An unnatural twilight hung over the abandoned graveyard. Snow blurred Elena's
eyes, and the wind numbed her body as if she'd stepped into a current of ice water.
Nevertheless, stubbornly, she did not turn around toward the modern cemetery and
the road beyond it. As best she could judge, Wickery Bridge was straight in front of
her. She headed for that.
The police had found Stefan's abandoned car by Old Creek Road. That meant
he'd left it somewhere between Drowning Creek and the woods. Elena stumbled on
the overgrown path through the graveyard, but she kept moving, head down, arms
hugging her light sweater to her. She had known this graveyard all her life, and she
could find her way through it blind.
By the time she crossed the bridge, her shivering had become painful. It wasn't
snowing as hard now, but the wind was even worse. It cut through her clothes as if
they were made of tissue paper, and took her breath away.
Stefan, she thought, and turned onto Old Creek Road, trudging northward. She
didn't believe what Damon had said. If Stefan were dead she would know. He was
alive, somewhere, and she had to find him. He could be anywhere out in this swirling
whiteness; he could be hurt, freezing. Dimly, Elena sensed that she was no longer
rational. All her thoughts had narrowed down to one single idea. Stefan. Find Stefan.
It was getting harder to keep to the road. On her right were oak trees, on her left,
the swift waters of Drowning Creek. She staggered and slowed. The wind didn't
seem quite so bad any more, but she did feel very tired. She needed to sit down and
rest, just for a minute.
As she sank down beside the road, she suddenly realized how silly she had been
to go out searching for Stefan. Stefan would come to her. All she needed to do was
sit here and wait. He was probably coming right now.
Elena shut her eyes and leaned her head against her drawn-up knees. She felt
much warmer now. Her mind drifted and she saw Stefan, saw him smile at her. His
arms around her were strong and secure, and she relaxed against him, glad to let go
of fear and tension. She was home. She-was where she belonged. Stefan would
never let anything hurt her.
But then, instead of holding her, Stefan was shaking her. He was ruining the
beautiful tranquility of her rest. She saw his face, pale and urgent, his green eyes dark
with pain. She tried to tell him to be still, but he wouldn't listen. Elena, get up, he
said, and she felt the compelling force of those green eyes willing her to do it. Elena,
get up now—
"Elena, get up!" The voice was high and thin and frightened. "Come on, Elena!
Get up! We can't carry you!"
Blinking, Elena brought a face into focus. It was small and heart-shaped, with fair,
almost translucent skin, framed by masses of soft red curls. Wide brown eyes, with
snowflakes caught in the lashes, stared worriedly into hers.
"Bonnie," she said slowly. "What are you doing here?"
"Helping me look for you," said a second, lower voice on Elena's other side. She
turned slightly to see elegantly arched eyebrows and an olive complexion. Meredith's
dark eyes, usually so ironic, were worried now, too. "Stand up, Elena, unless you
want to become an ice princess for real."
There was snow all over her, like a white fur coat. Stiffly, Elena stood, leaning
heavily on the two other girls. They walked her back to Meredith's car.
It should have been warmer inside the car, but Elena's nerve endings were coming
back to life, making her shake, telling her how cold she really was. Winter is an
unforgiving season, she thought as Meredith drove.
"What's going on, Elena?" said Bonnie from the back seat. "What did you think
you were doing, running away from school like that? And how could you come out
here?"
Elena hesitated, then shook her head. She wanted nothing more than to tell Bonnie
and Meredith everything. To tell them the whole terrifying story about Stefan and
Damon and what had really happened last night to Mr. Tanner—and about after. But
she couldn't.
Even if they would believe her, it wasn't her secret to tell.
"Everyone's out looking for you," Meredith said. "The whole school's upset, and
your aunt was nearly frantic."
"Sorry," said Elena dully, trying to
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