It’s a long trek across the frozen tundra to the foothills and the possibility of shelter. I take socks from my bag and give them to everyone to use as mittens. I try not to think about how cold it must be out here. Maybe ten or fifteen below zero? Don’t think about it, Vivian.
We take turns carrying Gloria, and despite the number of blankets we’ve wrapped around her, it’s not enough. She cries through the cold.