Most of you reacted the same way as I did when I read Lizzie's account of surviving that fire. It brings out strong emotion. I know I had tears running down my cheeks.

Ipsita struggled to even read it a second time. Thank you, Sis, for every word you read.


Ivalo Airport, Lapland

1,000 kilometers north of Helsinki, Lapland has a heavy cover of snow under a permanent twilight sky. Minus fifteen and a light breeze greets us as we walk across the tarmac, and I chuckle when I hear Masen cursing about the cold. He won't freeze inside the terminal if we have to wait for our hotel transfer, and our cold weather gear will be waiting at the resort. He might even enjoy the polar night, especially if it delivers stars and dancing Northern Lights during the daytime. I remember it happened when we were here last time.

The half-hour bus ride takes us along a well-cleared highway with thick forests on both sides. We only see the glow of Saariselkä from the road, but the village is as remote as I remember and probably just as beautiful. We still have a little farther to go before we reach Keskiyön, but I can already feel the excitement building.

My strongest memories of the resort are of Tanya and I running around in the snow outside and lying in bed in the glass igloo, watching for any sign of Santa's sleigh. Being in Lapland for Christmas, there was no doubt the man in the red suit they called Joulupukki was real. Tanya's foreign family traditions and my parents' ability to accept them made for a unique vacation. It was quite liberating for a nine-year-old to have a friend from a different culture and celebrate in a different way.

"Guess this is it, babe."

I come out of my musings, eager to see as much as I can. The twinkling lights and Christmas trees outside the main building look much the same, but my parents' smaller version is certainly more inviting. Here, there are people everywhere when twenty years ago, there might have been just the four of us outside at this time of night.

I know exactly why the igloos have become big business, but I wonder if it's ever quiet enough to hear a branch let go of its ice. The silence of winter was one of the things I loved about this place, and maybe it's why I felt so at home in the quiet of the Australian outback.

We bring our bags inside, and at first, I can't work out what is different. There is still a big Christmas tree, but it's in the lobby rather than the dining hall. Their reindeer antler chandelier looks more like something we'd find in a Helsinki department store than the real one that hung here before. There are no arches tied with mistletoe or straw Himmeli on the tree, either. It's funny the little details that are still clear in my head.

"You okay?" Masen asks, and I know I haven't said a word since we arrived. When I nod, he waits in the check-in line, giving me space to process being back here. I am determined to confront my feelings of guilt and nostalgia, releasing the hold they've had over me, but I'm not sure what emotions they'll stir. I just know it will be easier having Masen with me.

He's been at the desk for a while when I go over to find out why. "What's happening?"

"Somebody's not very happy. That lady is saying the room is filthy and wants it fixed immediately."

"Oh … kay." The complaining guest glares at me, and I look away. She has every right to speak up, especially at these prices, but right now it looks like they won't satisfy her easily.

"But I think there's a problem with our room too."

"It's not ready yet?" I inquire, feeling annoyed. They're clearly busy checking in people who've just arrived, but it's starting to get late.

"I don't know. Our girl was on the phone, speaking in Finnish, and now she's gone."

Linking my arm in his, I lean against his shoulder and breathe in the scent of my roses, still perfect after their two days in the fridge. While the hotel is not quite what I remember, we will still have a fantastic time.

We talked about what happened to Rose and Emmett, and Masen has accepted that he could never have helped them by staying in Australia. We have agreed to put everything aside for a few days and just concentrate on this trip. Tomorrow is our commitment ceremony. I feel certain that Tanya is going to send me a sign while we're here, and after all this time, I cannot miss it because my head is full of bushfires, ideas for our project and wedding plans.

The girl returns with an older woman who comes to the desk wearing a plastic smile.

"We have some minor repairs to complete before we can check you in."

"Are there no other rooms available?" Masen asks. "We're on our honeymoon."

With a stiff glance at the flowers, she states, "I'm sorry, we are full. I can offer you complimentary drinks and a meal in the dining room, and we'll call you when the room is ready."

"That's fine," I reply curtly. I am angry, but not enough to make a scene and antagonize the people who will be looking after us for the next four days. If there isn't another room and it's fifteen below outside, then we have no other option. "I could eat."

It might be because I've been spoiled by the amazing food in Helsinki, but I wouldn't rate what I chose from the menu. There are also rowdy children who become more irritating the longer we wait. I can't help mumbling that they should be in bed, but Masen says we were nine and on vacation, so we were probably no different.

They finally call, and we return to the desk to receive bad news. The minor repairs could now take days, so they're transferring us to another hotel. I can't help but scoff when she suggests that they'll upgrade us at no extra charge.

"They'll be here to pick you up in twenty minutes."

"Where is it?" I ask.

"Tähti is at Kaunispää, near the village."

"Are we in an igloo?" I'm praying it's not some cramped hotel room.

"It is not an igloo, but I am sure you will find it acceptable. Of course, if we can fix the problem with your room, we'll be happy to bring you back."

Sighing, I wonder if erupting would make me feel better when she has already said the problem could take days to resolve, so the offer to bring us back is basically empty. I'm gutted we're now staying somewhere she chooses to describe as "acceptable."

Masen takes my hand, knowing I'm close to losing my shit, and asks the woman about our tours and the gear we were supposed to pick up tonight. She informs us our tours will now leave from Tähti, and they will supply everything we need.

Waiting for our transport to arrive, there's time for a quick tour around the igloo city. They certainly are beautiful, glowing under the dark sky, but tiny compared to the cavernous glass chamber I remember from when I was a kid. We watch a happy family dragging sleds holding their suitcases, delighted when they open their door for the first time.

There are hundreds of igloos here now, and I want to know why ours was the one that needed repairs, because I don't understand. It always felt like Tanya was calling me back here, so it's cruel that we've come all this way, and we instantly have to leave. Masen offers to find us a better alternative tomorrow, and I love that he wants to try, but I doubt there will be much left at this time of the year.

Right on time, our minibus arrives, and our driver gets out and looks after our bags, introducing himself as Sasha. Maybe he knows we're orphans because he's extra friendly, taking us for a spin around the village on the way to the hotel. Pointing out the best places to eat, he shows us where we get lift passes and hire skis.

Our new hotel is not only near the village, it's located next to the chairlift overlooking it. Although Masen calls his skiing ability rusty, I like that we have this added activity on our doorstep. Sasha gives us a card with the number for a cab driver who will take us down to the village, but he says we can arrange one at any time through the desk at the hotel.

After driving up the mountain through a dark forest, we come out into a clearing, and butterflies leap into my stomach. Masen squeezes my hand, so I gather he's having a similar reaction to the sight before us. The chairlift station is closed, but dramatic under lights, and Sasha explains this is the start of the longest toboggan run in Finland. Masen smiles as if he's up for the challenge, and I know he will fall under the spell of dry powder and improve every hour he spends on the mountain.

We collect our gear and the key to our Scenic View Suite. While I am impressed with the way the staff at this small hotel have made us feel welcome, I have a feeling the accommodation won't live up to its name. However, a wall of glass gives the living area a surprising view of the village, and stairs lead to a loft bedroom with more glass facing north, so we actually can watch the Northern Lights in bed. While it's not an igloo, the design is clever, and we get all the features of a mini apartment.

"Babe?" Masen calls out while I'm searching the sky for any sign of an aurora. "We have a sauna!"

I speed down the stairs and sure enough, there's a little sauna tucked away beside the bathroom. I was really pissed when we had to leave the other resort, but I'm now thinking we're going to like this much better.

-0-

The morning of January 7th starts with a feeling of optimism, hugging a cup of black tea and enjoying the sight of a tiny filament of daylight marking the horizon. It's so beautiful here, high up on the mountain with all the snow and twinkling lights of the village.

This is much more than a different day to celebrate Christmas. It's the day I pledge my life to the man I adore, and it seems so right that it's taking place here. While there were no vacancies at the ice chapel at Keskiyön or at St Paulus in Saariselkä, I like the option to say our vows in a remote location, and we must have this incredible horizon in our photos. It's also perfect that I have my stunning bouquet and a sleigh ride to look forward to after.

Then Masen receives a call that ends our plans. Our celebrant was expected to resume work today after traveling to China to see family for Christmas, but they've been informed that he caught pneumonia over there and died. Masen says the woman was obviously in shock, and they were urgently trying to source a replacement, but could only perform actual wedding ceremonies today.

We understand they must prioritize, but I can't help feeling empty. We discuss going ahead without a celebrant, hiring someone to take us by snowmobile to take photos, but the last thing we want is an anniversary associated with someone's death.

Over a long breakfast, I wonder why nothing is going to plan, but I look at my surroundings, and we really have lucked out with this great hotel, its delicious buffet, and amazing views.

Relaxing in the lounge area where a huge stone wall radiates heat from the fire, we meet a lovely German couple who've also been in Helsinki. They're going home this morning, but they have nothing but great things to say about the hotel, the activities, and their vacation in general. They're only disappointed they never got to see an aurora.

We go ahead with our trip to the reindeer farm, and I still enjoy the sleigh ride. It would have been more romantic after the commitment ceremony, but there's a nice bond between the young buck and his trainer, and it's lovely and warm under the blankets and hides.

The pick-up and drop-off point for the tour was Keskiyön, and I'm fine to spend a little time there before Sasha comes to collect us. It's good to compare our superior accommodations with these igloos and accept that this is not the place I remember. It didn't show in the photos they publish. I had to come here to see that it holds no draw for me anymore.

After our big breakfast this morning, we didn't need lunch, but I'm interested when Masen suggests coffee and a snack. The restaurant is busy, and they seat us between large family groups, lingering over their meals.

A lemon tart takes my attention until I hear a child whining nearby. I don't have to understand the language to know she's had enough and wants to leave the table. As she stands and pulls on her red parka, it's apparent they've relented and allowed her to go. Maybe she has a friend her own age to visit. I'm just glad I don't have to listen to her griping anymore.

I don't know if it was the modern acoustics at Tähti, but the restaurant this morning was serene compared to the din in here, and I don't want to hang around once we've finished eating. We visit the souvenir shop but find nothing more than what was on offer in Helsinki.

Sasha should be calling soon, and I would prefer not to wait in that hotel lobby, so we decide to brave the cold. The gear they've provided keeps us very warm, and it's nice outside in the brisk clean air.

Since this might be the last time I ever see this place, I'm taking photos when Masen spins me around.

And the sky is … out of this world.

I never cease to marvel at the spectacle of an aurora, but this Aurora Polaris is what the sky must look like in heaven. So many forces have to come together to produce such an array of colors, and we are blessed to be here to witness it.

"Shit!"

Masen is running and then crouching down by the trees. I can't see what's there in the dark, so I rush to join him, gasping when I recognize the red jacket from the girl in the restaurant.

With only the light from his phone, he is searching through her frosty hair, assessing whether there's more than the gash on her forehead causing the blood on her face. I add my phone's light, and he opens her eyes and mouth before pressing fingers to her neck.

"Strong pulse," he says to himself. Lifting her head gently, he turns it this way and that, checking she hasn't broken her neck, I suppose, but he doesn't need my questions distracting his routine. "Seems okay. Wake up kiddo!" He moves her arms and legs and then looks at me.

"We gotta get her out of the cold. I'm going to carry her in through that front door. Can you clear the way for me?"

"Of course." I'm already scanning for the best way to take him. The clouds have cloaked the aurora again, so it's dark, and the people I'm about to move out of the way haven't noticed us yet. If they were out here, then their sight was undoubtedly directed at the shimmering sky.

"We need a doctor!" I sing out as Masen brings the child into the lobby.

Although she's no longer bleeding, the amount of blood on her face draws everyone's attention, and the girl manning the desk is wide-eyed when she picks up a phone.

"This way!" Another staff member tries to direct us, but Masen wants things done his way.

"No, she has been in the snow! I need her near the fire with blankets."

As soon as the words have left his mouth, people occupying a nearby couch are on their feet, dragging it over to the fire. Masen lowers her gently, and I unzip her jacket, finding it has done a good job of keeping her dry, but she's freezing. With all the shouting, being picked up and brought in here, she hasn't woken, making me worry the head injury might be just as concerning as her exposure to the cold.

The girl who was at the counter brings a pillow and blankets, and confirms an ambulance is coming from Ivalo. She asks if we need anything, and Masen requests a glass of warm water and for someone to find the child's family, so I take off for the restaurant, hoping they're still there.

When I locate their table, I'm not sure I recognize them since I only glanced over when the child was pleading in a foreign language, seeing the determined way she rose from her chair, pulling on the red parka that has probably saved her life. I just hope it is them and they speak enough English to understand me.

"The young girl wearing the red jacket is in the lobby." I point behind me. "She has hit her head." I tap my forehead, attempting to communicate.

"Serena!" One of the two women is immediately on her feet, and I lead the way, not attempting to elaborate when I don't know the child's condition. She kneels by the couch and pushes blood-caked hair off her forehead. Saying her name over and over in a gentle tone, she looks up with eyes begging for answers.

Masen reacts to her silent question. "An ambulance is coming."

"Do you know what happened?" she asks.

"There is bark in the fur of her hood." Masen holds it out to demonstrate. "My guess is she hit her head on a branch."

"Always running." She laughs as if she hasn't grasped the severity of the situation, and I remember Tanya and I giggling when we slipped over, tearing around outside. It's incredible we both survived that vacation without injury, really.

A man carrying a small boy comes to stand next to them, shaking his head as if he can't believe what he's seeing. Another woman takes the child from his arms, and he crouches down, wrapping his arm around the girl's mother. They talk quietly for a few minutes before he stands and looks at me.

"You found our daughter?" His accent is much thicker than his wife's.

"Masen did." I smile at the man beside me. "He found her in the snow."

Masen explains. "There was a break in the clouds, and we saw the aurora. I was watching the colors reflecting on the snow when I noticed the red jacket."

"Were you in an igloo?" he asks, as if he's trying to visualize what happened.

"No, we were outside," Masen explains, and I understand the glance he gives me. The man might want details, but he doesn't need to know about last night. "Bella and I are staying in the village. We were waiting for our van to take us back."

"Did you say Bella?" The mother looks shocked, and the color seems to drain from her face as she stares, wide-eyed at her husband.

"Mama."

There's a collective sigh of relief when we realize Serena has woken up and recognized her mother. Then a text arrives from Sasha saying he's in the parking lot, and while I would like to see if the paramedics take her to hospital, we must go. Amid thanks and belated introductions, Makenna and Caius take my number and promise to give us an update tomorrow.

I'm distracted traveling back to our hotel, finding it hard to deny we just witnessed a miracle. There are so many ways this could have ended in tragedy that I can't bring myself to voice them. Masen looks deep in thought, holding my hand while he looks out the window.

It's only once we're back in our room that he speaks. "I don't know how you feel, but I can't accept this was a coincidence. We were meant to be there at that exact moment, and I might not have recognized the red as her jacket had I not seen her wearing it. If our room had been available and we were staying there, we probably wouldn't have been standing outside, and if the clouds hadn't parted, she would have remained invisible in the dark."

I hug him, aware that something phenomenal has taken place. "And if we wanted a new reason to celebrate January 7th, then it will forever be the day you saved a life."

"It's not about me, babe. I wouldn't have been there if not for you."

That is true, but I never even glanced at the ground, totally transfixed by the sky, while Masen was on his way to save her. As he says, it doesn't seem possible this was a coincidence, but I'll need a good night's sleep before I'm ready to believe we were summoned here to prevent a tragedy from happening.

xo Thanks for reading

Now I really want to hear your thoughts. Some of you have hinted in your reviews, but I'd love to know where your imagination is sending you.