A short introspective piece.
She would dutifully listen whenever a friend started off like this, always happy to learn a new story and find out that much more about them.
She never felt the need to open up herself.
Seasons passed, and when the holiday season rolled around, a warm sentiment filled the chilly air. All but the most traumatized and/or oblivious New Yorkers would give a thought to family -- be it plans for a trip home, a call to the one relative they were still in contact with, reaffirmation of their decision to remain estranged, a glance over police reports to ensure the bodies hadn't yet been discovered, or numerous other ways.
Snow tended to be too caught up in her work to give it much notice, but the occasional night came when it got the better of her. A mother who loved them and kept them isolated from anything out in the forest for the first years of their lives, a father who never really saw her beyond her title, a stepmother who came across as distant but reasonably caring, up until the attempted homicide. . .
She wondered what her sister was doing.