Chapter 12: Snowfall and Quiet Miracles
(Evan Carter POV)
Snow began to fall just before dawn.
I noticed it because the world went quieter.
Not abruptly. Not dramatically. Just enough that the usual city noise—cars in the distance, voices drifting through open windows, the hum of electricity—felt muted, like someone had pressed a hand gently over the day's mouth.
I stood by the window of our apartment, watching white flakes drift down between buildings. They moved without urgency. Without fear. Each one following its own path, unconcerned with where it would land.
Snow had always done that to the world.
It made everything honest.
Behind me, the kettle clicked off.
"Evan."
I turned.
My sister stood in the doorway, hair still slightly messy from sleep, oversized sweater hanging off one shoulder. Her ocean-blue eyes—too similar to mine for comfort—were already alert.
"It's snowing," she said.
"I know."
She smiled, the kind that didn't ask permission. "It's Christmas Eve."
"I'm aware."
She walked over anyway, peering out the window. "It's beautiful."
"Yes."
She glanced at me sideways. "You sound like you're arguing with it."
"I'm not."
"You do that sometimes."
I poured hot water into two cups and slid one toward her. She wrapped her hands around it, humming softly, a tune I didn't recognize.
I watched her instead of the snow.
She was growing fast. Too fast. Every year, I noticed new things—how her posture had changed, how her voice carried more certainty, how strangers looked at her twice before looking away.
I didn't like that part.
"You're not going to campus today, right?" she asked.
"Classes are suspended."
"Good." She hesitated. "Mia invited me to the Christmas market later."
I was shocked.
" How did the two know each other". I said puzzled.
Her eyebrows lifted, and she gave a shrug "I had to find out who my brothers girlfriend is one way or another, so I was able to connect with her and we became friends. She's really sweet you know"
"You're coming? Right?."
"I am."
She studied my face for a long moment. Then nodded, as if confirming something privately.
"Okay," she said. "Then I'll wear the blue scarf."
I didn't ask why that mattered.
It usually did.
---
Campus looked different under snow.
Paths softened. Corners blurred. The sharpness of the world dulled just enough that people slowed down without realizing it. Students laughed louder, breath fogging in the air. Someone slipped and swore. Someone else helped them up.
I walked through it all without hurry.
Mia waited near the library steps, bundled in a cream-colored coat, hair tucked into a wool hat. Snowflakes caught in her lashes when she looked up and saw me.
She looked really beautiful
She smiled.
Not the polite one. The real one, And I felt my heart skip a beat.
"You're late," she said.
"I'm not."
She laughed quietly. "You are by two minutes."
"I allowed for snowfall."
She shook her head, amused. "You're impossible."
"Yes."
My sister waved enthusiastically from behind her, already halfway into a conversation with a vendor nearby.
Mia watched her go. "She's excited."
"She always is."
"She trusts easily."
I met her gaze. "She chooses carefully."
That surprised her.
She looked away, cheeks faintly pink—not from the cold.
The Christmas market filled the quad, lights strung between trees, wooden stalls glowing warmly against the white ground. Music played somewhere, soft and uneven. Cinnamon and sugar hung in the air.
Mia walked beside me, boots crunching softly in the snow.
"You seem… different today," she said.
"Different how?"
"Quieter."
I almost smiled. "That's impressive."
"I mean it," she said. "Usually you're quiet like you're holding something back. Today you're just… quiet."
Snow landed on her coat. She brushed it away absently.
"I like days like this," she added. "They feel… lighter."
"Yes."
She glanced at me. "You always answer like that. One word. Like you're rationing them."
"I am."
"For what?"
I didn't answer.
We stopped at a stall selling hot chocolate. My sister ordered with absolute confidence, adding marshmallows and whipped cream without hesitation.
Mia leaned closer to me while we waited.
"You never told me," she said softly, "what Christmas is like for you."
I watched steam rise from the cups. "It's quiet."
"That's it?"
"Yes."
"No traditions? No favorite memories?"
I took one cup, handed it to her.
"I don't collect memories," I said. "I observe them."
She frowned slightly. "That sounds lonely."
"It's efficient."
"That's not the same thing."
"No," I agreed. "It isn't."
She studied my face like she was trying to read a language she didn't fully understand.
Then she smiled again. Smaller this time. Thoughtful.
"Well," she said, "you're observing this one."
Snow fell thicker now.
A group of students started singing nearby—badly, enthusiastically. Someone knocked over a decoration. Laughter followed.
My sister tugged my sleeve. "Evan, look."
She pointed.
A child had dropped his mitten. He stared at it like it was a tragedy. People walked past without noticing.
Before I thought about it, I stepped forward, picked it up, and handed it back.
The child's face lit up like I'd performed a miracle.
"Thank you," he said solemnly.
I nodded once and stepped back.
Mia watched me the entire time.
"You didn't hesitate," she said.
"I saw it."
"No," she said quietly. "I mean… you didn't calculate."
Snow continued to fall.
That wasn't true.
I always calculated.
But some things required less effort.
...
Later, we walked toward the frozen fountain near the humanities building. Someone had decorated it with lights that reflected softly in the ice.
Mia stopped beside it.
"I used to come here when I was younger," she said. "With my parents."
I said nothing.
"My dad would complain about the cold the entire time," she continued. "But he never left early."
She smiled faintly. "I didn't realize how rare that was until later."
Her voice didn't shake. But the pause afterward said enough.
"I don't know why I'm telling you this," she added.
"You trust me," I said.
She blinked. "Do I?"
"Yes."
That scared her.
She turned to face me fully, snow settling on her shoulders. "Evan… sometimes when I'm with you, it feels like I'm standing at the edge of something."
I waited.
"Like if I take one more step," she whispered, "everything changes."
"That's accurate."
Her breath caught. "Why do you say things like that so calmly?"
"Because panic distorts outcomes."
She searched my eyes.
"I don't think you're dangerous," she said finally. "But I think you've lived with danger long enough that it stopped scaring you."
Snow fell between us, slow and steady.
"That's not a good thing," she added.
"No," I agreed. "It isn't."
Silence stretched.
Then my sister's voice broke it. "Evan! They're lighting the lanterns!"
We joined the crowd as paper lanterns were released into the air, glowing softly as they rose, light drifting upward like wishes no one expected to come true.
Mia watched them go, eyes reflecting gold.
"Make a wish," she said.
"I don't do that."
"Humor me."
I looked up.
Lanterns disappeared into the snowfall, light fading, swallowed gently by the sky.
I thought of my sister's future.
I thought of Mia's smile.
I thought of the line I was already standing on.
"I wish," I said quietly, "that this moment lasts."
She turned sharply. "Really?"
"Yes."
That surprised her more than anything else I'd said.
She smiled, and this time it reached her eyes.
Snow continued to fall.
And for a brief, dangerous moment—
The world felt almost kind.
. . .
That night, long after the lights dimmed and my sister slept, I stood by the window again.
Snow covered the city completely now.
Footprints erased.
Edges softened.
A clean slate.
My phone lay untouched on the table.
I didn't look at it.
I already knew what tomorrow would bring.
Quiet miracles never lasted.
And snowfall always hid what came next.
Authors POV
(Merry Christmas to everyone reading this🎄🎅. if you'd like to support it, a powerstone would really mean a lot to me🥹. but your comments and reads already make my day. thank you for being part of this journey ♥️)