Trapping Zero. Джек Марс

to weave left and right, told him that he had done this many more times than once. After the first run he had little doubt that he could handle a black diamond trail without much difficulty.

      Even so, he did his best to hide it and kept pace with the girls. They seemed to be having a great time, Maya laughing at every wobble and near-fall, and Sara with an omnipresent smile on her face.

      On their third run down the beginner’s slope, Reid started in between the two of them. Then he bent his legs slightly, leaning into the descent, and tucked the poles under his armpits. “Race you to the bottom!” he called out as he picked up speed.

      “You’re on, old man!” Maya laughed behind him.

      “Old man? We’ll see who’s laughing when I kick your butt…” Reid glanced over his shoulder just in time to see Sara’s left ski hit a small berm of packed snow. It slipped out from under her and both arms flailed out as she flopped face-first into the slope.

      “Sara!” Reid skidded to a halt. He unclasped his boots in seconds and ran over the powder to her. “Sara, are you okay?” She had just gotten her cast off; the last thing she needed was another injury to ruin her vacation.

      He knelt and turned her over. Her face was red and there were tears in her eyes—but she was laughing.

      “Are you okay?” he asked again.

      “Yeah,” she said between giggling fits. “I’m fine.”

      He helped her to her feet and she wiped tears from her eyes. He was more than just relieved that she was okay—the sound of her laughter was like music to his soul.

      “You sure you’re okay?” he asked a third time.

      “Yes, Dad.” She sighed happily and steadied herself on her skis. “I promise I’m okay. Nothing broken. By the way…” She pushed off with both poles and sent herself careening quickly down the slope. “We’re still racing, right?”

      From nearby, Maya laughed too and set off after her sister.

      “Not fair!” Reid called after them as he scrambled back to his skis.

      After three hours of riding the slopes, they returned to the lodge and found seats in the large common area, in front of a roaring fireplace large enough to park a motorcycle in. Reid ordered three mugs of Swiss hot chocolate, and they sipped contentedly before the fire.

      “I want to try a blue trail tomorrow,” Sara announced.

      “Are you sure, Squeak? You just got that cast off your arm,” Maya taunted.

      “Maybe in the afternoon we can check out the town,” Reid offered. “Find a place to have dinner?”

      “That sounds fun,” Sara agreed.

      “Sure, you say that now,” Maya said, “but you know he’s going to make us check out that monastery.”

      “Hey, it’s important to get to know the history of a place,” said Reid. “That monastery was what started this town. Well, up until the 1850s, when it became a vacation spot for tourists seeking what they called ‘fresh air cures.’ You see, back then…”

      Maya leaned back in her chair and pretended to snore loudly.

      “Ha-ha,” Reid mocked. “Fine, I’ll stop lecturing. Who needs a refill? Be right back.” He scooped up the three mugs and headed towards the counter for more.

      As he waited, he couldn’t help but mentally pat himself on the back. For the first time in a while, maybe even since the memory suppressor was removed, he felt that he’d done right by his girls. They were all having a great time; the events of the month prior already seemed to be becoming distant memory. He hoped it was more than just temporary, and that the creation of new, happy memories would shove out the anxiety and anguish of what had happened.

      Of course, he wasn’t so naïve to believe that the girls would simply forget about the incident. It was important not to forget; just like history, he didn’t want the opportunity for it to repeat itself. But if it got Sara out of her melancholy funk and Maya back on track with school and her future, then he would feel he did his job as a parent.

      He returned to their sofa to find Maya jabbing away at her cell phone and Sara’s seat empty.

      “Went to the bathroom,” Maya said before he could even ask.

      “I wasn’t going to ask,” he said as nonchalantly as he could, setting down the three mugs.

      “Yeah, right,” Maya teased.

      Reid straightened and looked around anyway. Of course he was going to ask; if it was up to him, neither of the girls would leave his sight. He glanced about, past the other tourists and skiers, the locals enjoying a hot drink, the staff serving patrons…

      A knot of panic tightened in his stomach as he spotted the back of Sara’s blonde head across the lodge floor. Behind her was a man in a black parka, following her—or perhaps guiding her away.

      He strode over quickly, fists balling at his side. His first thought was immediately of the Slovakian traffickers. They found us. His tense muscles were ready for a fight, ready to take this man apart in front of everyone. Somehow they found us here, in the mountains.

      “Sara,” he said sharply.

      She stopped and turned, her eyes wide at his commanding tone.

      “You okay?” He looked from her to the man following her. He had dark eyes, a five o’clock shadow, ski goggles perched on his forehead. He didn’t look Slovakian, but Reid was not taking any chances.

      “Fine, Dad. This man asked me where the bathrooms were,” Sara told him.

      The man put up both hands defensively, palms out. “I’m very sorry,” he said, his accent sounding German. “I did not mean any harm—”

      “You couldn’t have asked an adult?” Reid said forcefully, staring the man down.

      “I asked the first person I saw,” the man protested.

      “And that was a fourteen-year-old girl?” Reid shook his head. “Who are you with?”

      “With?” the man asked in bewilderment. “I’m… with my family here.”

      “Yeah? Where are they? Point them out,” Reid demanded.

      “I-I don’t want any trouble.”

      “Dad.” Reid felt an arm tug at his. “That’s enough, Dad.” Maya tugged at him again. “He’s just a tourist.”

      Reid narrowed his eyes. “I’d better not see you around my girls again,” he warned, “or there will be trouble.” He turned away from the frightened man as Sara, bewildered, headed back towards the sofa.

      But Maya stood in his path with her hands on her hips. “Just what the hell was that?”

      He frowned. “Maya, you watch your language—”

      “No, you watch yours,” she shot back. “Dad, you were speaking German just now.”

      Reid blinked in surprise. “I was?” He hadn’t even realized it, but the man in the black parka had apologized in German—and Reid had simply picked it up without thinking.

      “You’re going to freak Sara out again, doing things like that,” Maya accused.

      His shoulders slackened. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I just thought…” You thought the Slovakian traffickers had followed you and your girls to Switzerland. Suddenly he recognized how ridiculous that sounded.

      It was clear that Maya and Sara were not the only ones that needed to recover from their shared experience. Maybe I need to schedule a few sessions with Dr. Branson, he thought as he rejoined his daughters.

      “I’m sorry about that,” he told Sara. “I guess I’m just a little overprotective right now.”

      She said nothing in response, but stared at the floor with a faraway look in her eye, both hands wrapped around a mug as it grew