Chapter 13

Anchorage, Alaska

After almost twelve hours of an exhausting flight, my feet finally touched base with Alaska.

The first words that escaped my shivering lips and through my cluttering teeth, "It's so f***in' cold out here."

Luckily, I packed enough thermals and hefty woolen wear that I shopped for back in NYC.

With frozen fingers, I hailed a cab towards the Willow Creek Lodge where I had rented a small cabin for myself the night before.

I reached the lodge and on the request of an old man sitting behind the antiquated oak reception counter reading his newspaper, I submitted a scanned copy of my documents to him.

"Do you have any other bags, Miss?" he enquired in a hard-to-decipher accent.

"No! Just two of these. That's all," I politely responded pointing towards my bags left by the cabbie at the lobby entrance.

"Very well. You are in Cabin no. 13," he said plucking off the key from the key-holder.