“It seems that she found Bill right before he was about to die and nursed him back to health. And they fell in love. So when he came back to America she came with him. He calls her the Snow Maid, and whenever there's going to be a bad storm, he asks her how much snow we're going to get and he tells everyone on his weather report. It's cute. And she's usually right.”
“That's a sweet story,” Mary sighed. True love did sometimes happen, it seemed.
From the window, there was a faint thump as something hit the floor. Rebecca sat up, rubbing her head. “Ow,” she said, her voice woozy. “I fell over.” She blinked sleepily. “I'm tired, Mommy.”
“All right, sweetheart.” Nearby, Debbie was curled up on her side, already asleep. She looked outside at the spinning snowflakes and considered the three –
