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that while she shared something with him, Barbara wasn’t leaving because her family still meant more to her than her ex-husband. Paul was a handsome and spirited guy who had more than enough to share when it came to love between his estranged wife and Barbara.

After his murder, Barbara had to cope with the loss alone. Not even her mother, Hilma Fisher, who wasn’t as forgiving as the first peak of sunlight after the long winter, knew of her affair or sorrow because of Paul. Barbara wanted to tell Hilma, and she meant to inform her mother about Paul. But Hilma believed marriage was a sacred and forever bond, and it was difficult for Barbara to share with the woman who held such high beliefs. Her mother was a woman who outlived her husband, Barbara’s father, by nearly a decade.

Over the months following Paul’s murder, Barbara had a new respect for Meghan Sheppard, the Police Chief of Kinguyakkii. A stern and conscientious woman, Sheppard knew of Barbara’s affair with Paul and didn’t spread it around town. The woman found Paul’s killer and had no interest in ruining Barbara’s reputation.

Now Barbara had only her mother, and they started communicating almost daily following her lover’s death. A distant relationship that faltered between them the moment Barbara divorced her husband a year before taking Paul as a lover. Hilma had choice words and harsh criticism for Barbara. After she shared it, they built another bridge, and Barbara began sharing her daily routine with her mother.

Except for that Saturday morning, when Barbara got to work at six, she saw no voicemail from her mother after Friday night’s call. Her mother played bingo on Friday night. Usually, she returned a call the following morning.

Barbara felt especially lonely that second Saturday in December. It was 11°F and not much warmer in the warehouse of the post office, with the overhead receiving doors open. The latest pallets of packages arrived from the cargo plane, and Barbara saw they had ten pallets of online retail boxes to sort. It was a daunting task, and one Barbara used to distract herself from the ache and loneliness.

Barbara decided to spend Christmas with her mother. That meant a trip to Noorvik, Alaska, where the woman lived. Hilma had a landline and an answering machine. Her mother was a traditional and practical woman. A smartphone for her didn’t work in Noorvik because calls didn’t have cell signals out there. The landline used a connection borrowed from the municipal airfield in Noorvik. It was the same connection as the internet in a village of almost seven hundred permanent residents.

Most young people left Noorvik, Barbara included, when they reached a certain age. She got as far as Kinguyakkii. It was considered a modernized and bustling city in the arctic. She had a great job, excellent benefits, and thanks to online shopping, more than enough overtime to pad her savings account for stormy days, or lavish vacations to lower-forty-eight destinations.

After eight that morning, Barbara called again when she had a moment for coffee, a cigarette, and a break from the monotonous grind of package sorting. Hilma was an early riser, and it surprised Barbara when her mother didn’t answer the phone.

The people of Noorvik looked out for each other. She decided to make another phone call to have someone stop by her mother’s house. Based on a feeling she couldn’t shake, Barbara knew Freddie Kesuk, a close friend of the family, wouldn’t mind visiting Hilma Fisher. That far away from emergency services, first responders were ill-equipped and sometimes uneducated neighbors. But they were willing to pull together as a community when needed. Barbara went back to work, pressed down the worry about her mother. She used heavy manual labor as a distraction from the loneliness and decided to call her mother after work.

Chapter Two

It was two weeks until Christmas, and Meghan Sheppard felt the curling pang of loneliness. She’d missed Thanksgiving with her daughter, Brittany, for no other reason than distance and a strong sense of responsibility. Brittany lived with her father in Syracuse, New York, and Meghan lived in the tundra town of Kinguyakkii, Alaska, which by logistics of flying might as well be on the moon from New York.

Brittany had school, life as a teenager, and a smartphone in the age of instant communication. Meghan shared conversations with her daughter through texting, social media, and countless video conferencing. Brittany understood her mother had a duty and didn’t forget her mother when it mattered. Brittany chose to stay in New York after her brief summer vacation with Meghan. It came as a surprise from her daughter after Brittany expressed interest in moving to Alaska and finishing high school with her mother that summer. Then she returned to New York, and as life happened, she changed her mind.

Meghan felt the ache of a mother missing a daughter, especially around the holidays. She’d go through the next few months of freezing winter darkness alone and celebrate Christmas with her fellow officers. At least she didn’t have to decorate the house for the season. Meghan didn’t want a reminder that she was alone during the holidays.

That Saturday morning flight back to Kinguyakkii from Anchorage was at capacity. In Meghan’s mind about flying, it meant the plane was considerably too heavy with passengers. She wanted a head start back to town while Duane Warren, the city’s mayor, caught a later flight because he had a Christmas shopping list for Anchorage stores.

Meghan already spent the last week shoulder to shoulder with the mayor during the North Slope Borough budget meeting held annually in Anchorage at the Nana Corporation building. She needed a break from Duane, and the early flight back allowed her time to regroup before dealing with him alone instead of surrounded by council members who learned to tamp down his inclinations for pointing fingers and budget cuts.

It was the one

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