”“Cool,” Mitchell said. “The few times that we partied here before he was always sober. He’d drink when we were somewhere else but never her.... He must trust you.”“I hope he does,” Hailey said. “Do you want some breakfast?”“God, no!” Mitchell muttered. “My stomach feels like my head.”“I’m just going to get a cup of coffee for when Phil wakes up,” Hailey told him. “I’m sure he’ll need it. If you get hungry, help yourself. If you need something, just knock on Phil’s door and I’ll get it.”“Thanks,. He'd done all he could; worrying was energy-sapping and he needed his energy to stay warm, to heal.He lay awake through the screaming, buffeting horrors of the night, the seething, whining sound of snow and ice crystals driven against the tent fabric by seventy and eighty knot winds. The upper half of the tent whipped far over, yielding like a slender reed in a gale. That was its salvation. Upright resistance would be flung from the ice shelf and driven into the sea.He slept, feverishly; his. More

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