The wind howled outside the flimsy walls of the tent, driving snow pelting the taut fabric like thousands of icy needles. Inside, Helena shivered violently, her wet clothes clinging to her skin like a frigid cocoon. She glanced over at Guest, his face illuminated by the weak glow of the lantern, and felt a pang of guilt in her chest.
It was supposed to be a bonding trip, a chance for Helena to reconnect with her increasingly distant son before he set off on his solo adventures. She had planned everything meticulously - the scenic route up to Monte Rosa Hut, the cozy hotel room waiting for them at the end of the trail.
They'd set out that morning full of hope, mother and son chatting easily as they ascended the trail. Helena had packed a special bottle of wine, hidden away in her backpack - a secret treat for when they reached the hut. But as the day wore on, dark clouds had gathered ominously on the horizon. By the time they realized the danger, it was too late to turn back. The storm had hit out of nowhere, an icy maelstrom that sent them scrambling for shelter.
They had managed to pitch the tent just as the worst of it rolled in, but their relief had been short-lived. The temperature was plummeting rapidly, and their soaked clothes offered little protection against the bone-deep chill. Helena's teeth chattered as she rubbed her arms, trying to coax some warmth back into her numb limbs.
In the dim light of the tent, Helena became acutely aware of their situation. They were miles from help, trapped by the blizzard, with only a single sleeping bag to share between them. She looked at Guest and felt a surge of maternal protectiveness. I have to keep him warm, she thought wildly, no matter what it takes.
They needed to get warm, and fast, or hypothermia would set in. Her gaze fell on the single person sleeping bag in the corner of the tent.
"Guest," she said quietly, forcing herself to meet his eyes. "We need to get out of these wet clothes and into the sleeping bag. It's the only way we'll make it through the night."
