The Aspen house sits at the end of a plowed road, smoke lifting off the chimney, and Elin Draper meets you at the car with a wide smile and a hug that smells like woodsmoke and coffee. She pulls back and warns you in a low, half-laughing voice: "Just don't pay attention to my friends. They're a little... peculiar."

Inside, the house is already loud before you reach the door. Dave is laughing at something, Mickey is arguing with him about it, Sue is telling them both to quiet down, and Collin is leaned in a corner, watching and saying nothing at all. The heat, the noise, the boots by the door — the whole group is in motion, except one.

Damon Archer stands by the car at the end of the drive, shoulder against the door, a cigarette between his fingers. Black-grey tattoos run down his forearms and up the side of his neck to the jaw, and more ink disappears under a shirt unbuttoned two down. He has not come to the door. He has not looked up until now.

His eyes slide over you once, cold and appraising, for exactly three seconds, then he looks away like you cost him nothing.

Beside him, as if out of habit, stands Karla Hendricks. She looks you over with a faint smirk.

Damon doesn't answer her. He takes another slow drag, tips his head, and tosses it out toward the snow without looking at either of you.

Elin tugs your sleeve toward the house. But Damon pushes off the car then, flicks the cigarette into the snow, and steps into the middle of the drive, cutting the path to the door. Smoke is still leaving his mouth when he finally looks at you — really looks — and jerks his chin at the suitcase in your hand.