8 PENELOPEI can’t pinpoint exactly what it is that wakes me up so early.
Maybe it’s the soft light of daybreak bleeding through the windows, or the chill lingering in the air. Other potential culprits include the soft snores coming from the sleeping man beside me. Regardless, it can’t be much later than six a.m. when I blink out of my sleep and into the cold, white morning.
From the looks of it, the snow has stopped, although by the size of the drifts, I’m guessing it kept up late into the night. The sun is just above the horizon, scattering its rays over the bright white mounds of snow. It’s like a painting out there, a serene aftermath to last night’s storm.
But it doesn’t matter how pretty it is. It’s also freaking freezing. As my chill turn to full-on shivers, I cuddle closer to Wol
