The next morning brought a blizzard warning and the first real snowstorm of the season. Fat flakes blanketed the town, and even the ever-efficient Heartland snowplows were running behind. The Monroe farmhouse was snowed in. For most people, that would be an inconvenience.

But for the Bradfords and Monroes?

It was an excuse to slow down, sip cocoa, and wrap themselves in Christmas.

Downstairs, the living room was a flurry of garland, tangled lights, and the smell of cinnamon and fresh pine. Lila was knee-deep in holiday décor, her paint-splattered jeans dusted with glitter as she wrestled with a box of tangled string lights.

"Ugh," she groaned, sitting back. "Why does this always feel like Christmas lights are out to ruin my life?"

"You need an expert," Luke said, stepping in from the kitchen with two mugs of cocoa and a knowing smirk.

Lila narrowed her eyes. "You think you're an expert?"

"I've been untangling emotional Christmas lights my whole life," he quipped, sitting beside her. "This is nothing."

She tried not to laugh... and failed.

He handed her a mug and began working through the knotted mess with surprising patience.

"You're good at that," she said after a while.

"Christmas lights?" he teased.

"No... calming chaos."

He shrugged. "You've got a lot of sparkle, Lila. Sometimes that attracts a little mess."

Their eyes met, something unspoken flickering between them. For a moment, the storm outside was forgotten.

Upstairs, Avery sat in her childhood bedroom—the window frosted over, the air still and heavy. In her hand was a folded note Madeline had slipped her the night before:

    "Call me when you're ready to fly. No pressure. Just potential."
— M

She had read it at least twenty times.

Why does she still get to me? Avery wondered. It wasn't about Madeline—it wasn't even about L.A. It was about everything she'd worked for. The ambition she had carried since her first solo flight. The hours she'd logged, the sweat and sacrifice. Had she left it all behind? Or had she just redirected it?

With trembling fingers, she picked up her phone.

No pressure, she repeated.

She dialed.

"Madeline Kerrington," came the clipped answer on the other end.

"It's Avery."

There was a pause. "I knew you'd call."

"I'm not saying yes. I just... I need to know more."

Madeline's voice softened. "Of course. I'm staying at the Hearthstone Inn. Come by this evening. No strings. Just conversation."

Avery hesitated, then nodded, even though Madeline couldn't see her.

"I'll be there."

Back in the barn, Lila and Luke had finished the lights. They twinkled now, soft and golden, wrapped around the beams like stars caught mid-flight. Jet lay snoring by the wood stove, his belly rising and falling peacefully.

"This is the nicest mess I've ever made," Lila said, stepping back to admire their handiwork.

Luke leaned beside her. "So what's your story, Lila Monroe? Besides glitter, crafts, and world domination via ornaments."

She laughed. "I don't know. I guess I'm still figuring it out. I always thought Avery had the skies, and I'd... I don't know... stay grounded. But sometimes grounded starts to feel stuck."

Luke looked at her carefully. "You're not stuck. You're rooted. Big difference."

She blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity.

"You're full of surprises," she said quietly.

"Yeah, well," he replied with a shrug, "maybe Vermont's bringing out the best in me."

That night, the snow continued to fall.

Avery stood in front of the mirror, brushing snow from her coat as she prepared to head to the Hearthstone Inn. Ethan was downstairs with Jet, unaware of where she was going. She hated keeping it from him—but she needed clarity first.

Lila caught her at the door.

"Going out?"

"Just a quick meeting. I won't be long."

Lila studied her. "Are you okay?"

"I will be," Avery said. Then she opened the door and stepped into the swirling night.

The Hearthstone Inn looked like something from a postcard—twinkling lights, wreaths in every window, and the smell of fresh gingerbread seeping from the kitchen.

Madeline waited in the lounge, sipping spiced wine by the fire, her posture impeccable.

"I was beginning to think you wouldn't come."

"I said I'd listen," Avery said, sitting across from her.

Madeline leaned in. "This isn't just about flying. It's about legacy. You could be the face of something powerful. You could lead. Build something bigger than this little town."

Avery looked into the fire, conflicted. "And give up what I've built here?"

"You'd be reshaping the future of aviation. Making real change."

Avery's voice dropped. "But what if the real change I needed already happened? What if this—the family, the farm, the man I love—is my greatest altitude?"

Madeline didn't answer right away. Then she stood, smoothing her coat.

"You're better than this, Avery. But maybe... you're also braver than I thought."

She walked out into the snow, heels crunching over ice.

And Avery sat alone by the fire, her reflection caught in the glass—half pilot, half small-town girl.

And completely torn.

❄️ End of Chap 3 ❄️