The Everwinter of Their Regret

As the screen blazed to life, my consciousness began to fade. My brain was forced into overdrive, neurons screaming as they died under the immense strain. Even the searing pain in my chest started to grow numb, overshadowed by the more intense agony in my skull.

Imogen's gloating, saccharine voice drifted over. "Look, it's starting! Now everyone can see this greedy woman's true face!"

Below, shareholders pointed at me, whispering, "Looks can be deceiving. A traitor like her should be publicly shamed!"

"She always seemed so quiet and harmless. Who knew she was so malicious inside?"

"She should've known her place. Just some arm candy who dared to covet power in the company? Thank goodness Mr. Blackwood saw through her in time, or the future of the Blackwood Group would be in jeopardy."

Isaiah remained expressionless, as if watching a trial that had nothing to do with him.

Finally, the image on the screen stabilized. Everyone had expected to see emails or bank transfers of my collusion with competitors. What appeared instead silenced the entire hall in an instant.

It was a sea of white.

A blizzard had buried the Aspen ski resort. The scene cut to the fatal avalanche from five years ago.

At the site of the avalanche, a man in a bright blue ski suit struggled painfully in the deep snow. His goggles were caked with frost, but the unique Blackwood family crest on his left arm was clearly visible.

On the dais, a violent tremor ran through Asher's body. His face instantly turned deathly pale.

It was him. Everyone recognized him.

In the footage, he tried to struggle free, but the more he fought, the deeper he sank into the snow.

"Help! Somebody help me!" he shrieked, his voice cracking with sheer terror.

Just then, a white figure cut through the blizzard. It was a petite woman, moving with astonishing agility.

She was going against the flow of evacuees, a human arrow rushing headlong into the danger zone of the avalanche. She navigated the collapsing snowdrifts with astonishing speed.

That was me, five years ago. I was still young then, healthy, and capable of such an extreme feat.

To save Asher, I had rushed in, disregarding everything.

"Asher!" My voice was a raw cry against the wind.

I finally found him, unconscious from lack of oxygen, pinned by a massive slab of ice and snow. The slab was still shifting, threatening to bury him completely at any moment.

The surrounding snowpack was unstable, ready to collapse again.

Without hesitation, I wedged my shoulder under the slab, dug my hands deep into the ice and snow, and heaved with all my might.

"Ah!"

The ice and snow tore through my gloves, my hands instantly numb with frostbite. The bone-chilling cold made me tremble, but I didn't give up.

I heaved again and again, my teeth chattering.

"Asher, wake up! Wake up!"

Finally, Asher let out a faint groan.

Just then, a deafening roar came from above—a secondary avalanche was coming. A massive wave of snow, carrying chunks of ice, plunged down toward us.

There was nowhere to run.

In the footage, without a moment's hesitation, I threw myself over Asher, shielding him with my own slender body.

The wave of snow slammed onto my back, and an indescribable pain instantly plunged my vision into darkness.

The injuries were too severe. I had multiple fractures and severe frostbite. Lying on top of Asher, my back was a bloody ruin.

The sickening crack of bone and my own pained groans echoed in the biting wind.

I bit my lip, and with my last ounce of strength, I pushed him out from under the snowdrift.

"Asher... run..."

My consciousness was fading fast.

Just before I blacked out completely, I saw another figure run out from the corner of a distant safe house.

It was Imogen. She was unharmed, with only a few snowflakes dusting her clothes.

She glanced at us, a flicker of something unreadable in her eyes, before she ran towards the arriving rescue team and media cameras.

The recording ended there.

The hall was plunged into a dead silence. All eyes slowly turned to Asher. His face, drained of all color, looked like it was carved from stone.