The walk to the elevator is the longest thirty seconds of my life. My shoes click rhythmically on the marble floors. Julian is silent beside me, his hands shoved into his pockets.

We hit the lobby, and the cold winter air of the city bites at my face. The black SUV is idling at the curb, exhaust curling into the grey sky like smoke.

"I’m driving," I say, stepping toward the driver's side.

"In this weather?" Julian scoffs, catching my arm. "You drive like a grandmother going to church, Frank. We’ll be halfway up the mountain when the blizzard hits. Let me take the wheel."

"I don't trust your driving...