I stole a peek at Daniel between my eyelashes. He was staring. We both smiled and returned to shoving the powdery snow into a mound.

“Make sure it’s wide enough.” Daniel grinned. “We need a good base for this guy if he’s going to be as tall as I’m imagining him.”

“This guy?” I quirked an eyebrow playfully. “Who says it’s a guy? I thought we were making a snowlady.”

He laughed. “Fine. Snowlady it is.”

A chorus of shrieking and giggling sounded nearby. I looked up to see the neighbor girls and a few of their friends building their own snowperson in the empty, snow-covered field behind our houses.

“Hi, Kristen!” Maddy waved to me but didn’t wait for my response. She was back at her building before I had time to wave back.

I smiled at Daniel. “Neighbor kids. I babysit for them sometimes.”

“Yeah, I know. Maddy and Grace.”

He said it casually, like it was no big deal, but inside, my heart melted. Most guys at our college weren’t exactly known for their thoughtfulness or listening skills. That Daniel remembered my babysitting charges’ names was enough to make my nineteen-year-old heart swoon.

I smiled at him, allowing myself a moment to get lost in his warm, brown eyes. “How did I get so lucky?”

His cheeks flamed red in a heartbeat. “Don’t know what you mean. I’m the lucky one.” His gaze stuck hard to the snow mound slowly taking shape into a snowlady. Then he caught my gaze and grinned.

The next moment, our hands brushed over each other in the snow. We were both wearing gloves, of course, but it still made my stomach jump. We stopped shaping the snowlady.

He leaned in most of the way. I met him the last inch—his lips warm and soft on mine, his nose cold on my cheek.

I considered gripping his scarf so he couldn’t ever pull away, but a loud whoop shattered the moment. The neighbor kids oohed and aahed and giggled as they spied on us. Their lopsided snowman was already finished.

I expected Daniel to turn pink again, but he laughed instead. “Whoops.”

I planted a parting peck on Daniel’s lips, much to Maddy and the others’ delight, then refocused my attention on the snowlady.

Ten finger-numbing minutes later, a shapely snowlady stood before us. I patted her on the head. “There. She’s all ready to peacefully pursue gender equality.”

“If you say so.” Daniel pulled me into a hug and rubbed my arms. “Want to go inside and warm up?”

“Sure.” But I wanted another kiss first.

I decided to check for spies this time. I glanced toward the group of kids to see if they were occupied.

But they were gone. And so was their snowman.

“Hey, where’d they go?” I pulled away from Daniel. “Weren’t they just here?”

He frowned. “Come to think of it, it’s been quiet for a while. I guess they went inside.”

“And knocked down their snowman right after they built it?” I felt a crease forming between my brows. “That’s kind of weird, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it is. I hope they’re okay.” Daniel bit his lip. “Want to knock on their door to check?”

“Yeah, let’s.”

I turned toward Maddy and Grace’s house, but then I stopped dead in my tracks.

Our snowlady had vanished.

I stumbled backwards. “Daniel . . .”

“What’s up, Kris—” He stopped short when he turned and saw for himself. “Where did it . . .?” He trailed off, apparently unable to finish his question.

“I don’t know.” I turned in a circle. “It was here, wasn’t it?” Nothing like a disappearing snowlady to make a girl think she’d gone nuts.

“Uh, Kristen?”

“Yeah?” I turned.

Daniel stared into the trees lining the field on the far side. I squinted in that direction. If I strained hard enough, I could just make out two white masses—one lopsided, and one a curvy snowlady bent on gender equality.

“What the—?” I took off at a full run.

“Kristen, wait!”

I heard Daniel call after me, but I couldn’t stop. I had to see for myself.

I almost sent up spray when I finally skidded to a halt before the snowpeople.

“No way.”

It was our snowlady, no mistaking it. But I could swear a smirk rested on her face—one we hadn’t built there.

And then she began to scoot toward me.

I stumbled away and nearly fell.

The snowlady’s pebble mouth twisted into a sneer. A low, rumbling growl issued from her direction, and I had to wonder if she’d been watching too much Walking Dead.

My heart froze in my chest as I realized I’d stumbled upon the truth.

Because, heaven help us, we’d somehow made a snow-walker. A snow-zombie.

The sound of boots crunching grew louder behind me.

“Daniel, no! Run aw—” But the rest of my plea was swallowed in snow.

Our distorted creation descended upon me in a flurry of cold, wet rage.

“Kristen!” Daniel’s voice penetrated the frozen haze. “Kristen, no!”

But I couldn’t call out to him. I felt myself grow taller, wider. My eyes froze in place, my arms thinned to spindly sticks. My nose elongated, then flushed orange. My feet pulled up into my body—disappeared.

And then the desire to save Daniel froze in my heart. All my feelings hardened into icy apathy.

I pulled my pebble mouth into a smirk. This mouth couldn’t speak, but my pebble eyes worked well enough to see Daniel’s horrified expression. I felt, rather than saw, the presence of more snow creatures moving through the trees behind me—short ones, half a dozen of them. If I listened hard enough, I could hear their childish giggles and squeals.

Though I couldn’t speak through my pebbles, I wondered if Daniel could read my icy thoughts.

Danny boy, I think we should see other people. But you do look scrumptious.