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If you're looking from the outside, it's hard to see in through the reflection of the snow on the window, but if you're in the room, you can see she's on the bed with her legs pulled up to her chest and her chin on her knees, her back curving forward like a palm tree in the wind. Her flannel pygama pants are blue and have peppermints on them; her yellow tank top reveals a bikini tan. There's an open suitcase at the foot of the bed, still packed with sandy clothes. She takes out a sweater and holds it to her nose, inhaling. It smells like cotton candy and cigarettes and cherry Coke. She tries to look at her reflection, see if she looks any different, but it's hard to see herself through the snow outside the window.





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