The snow blanketed the world in an eerie quiet, muffling the distant creak of tree branches under its weight. Morning light filtered through the skeletal pines, soft and gray, casting long shadows on the untouched powder surrounding the campsite. The tent, a sagging lump of green canvas, was rimmed with frost along its seams, and faint tendrils of smoke curled up from the fire pit where Dad knelt, poking at the crackling flames. The sizzle of bacon echoed in the crisp air, mingling with the smoky scent of pinewood.

Inside the tent, Lily groaned dramatically from her sleeping bag. The teenager tugged the thin flap of fabric tighter over her face, as though that could block out the biting chill that had settled in her bones overnight.

"This is torture," she muttered, her voice muffled.

Her younger brother, Max, was already awake and sitting cross-legged beside her. His puffy red jacket swallowed his small frame, and he grinned at her misery with the smugness only an eight-year-old could muster.

"You're just mad there's no Wi-Fi," he teased, his breath puffing out in clouds. "I think it's cool. We’re like… pioneers or something."

Lily pulled the fabric down just enough to glare at him with narrowed eyes. "Yeah, pioneers who freeze to death in the wilderness."

Outside, Dad's voice cut through the morning stillness. "Rise and shine, campers! Breakfast is on!"

Lily groaned again, louder this time. "Please tell me we’re not eating more granola bars."

Max scrambled to unzip the tent. The cold air rushed in, biting and sharp, making Lily recoil deeper into her sleeping bag.

"Bacon," Max whispered in awe as he caught a whiff of the smoke. "Real bacon!"

"Yep!" Dad called out, clearly pleased with himself. He stood by the fire, spatula in hand, his cheeks ruddy from the cold. The heavy wool beanie pulled down over his ears made him look a little goofy, but he didn’t care. He gave the cast iron pan a triumphant shake, sending more bacon grease hissing into the fire. "Get out here before it’s all gone."

Max didn’t need to be told twice. He stumbled out of the tent, nearly tripping over his snow boots in his haste. His little feet crunched through the snow as he made a beeline for the fire.

Lily sat up slowly, rubbing her face with her hands. Her fingers were numb despite the gloves she’d slept in. She glanced toward the tent flap, where pale light filtered in through the cracks. The idea of leaving the relative warmth of the sleeping bag to step out into the freezing world beyond seemed impossible.

Her mom’s voice came from the other side of the tent, calm but firm. "Come on, Lily. You’ll warm up once you’re by the fire."

"I don’t get why we couldn’t go to a normal campground. You know, with actual bathrooms and cabins and heat?"

"You’ll appreciate this someday," Mom replied. She zipped up her coat and stepped outside. "It builds character."

Lily rolled her eyes. "Yeah, because that’s what every teenager wants—more character."

Still, the smell of bacon and the promise of something hot pulled her to her feet. She shoved her boots on with a grimace, every movement slow and reluctant, and stepped out into the snow.

The world outside the tent was stunning. The trees sparkled with frost, and a soft dusting of snow coated every surface. The sky was a washed-out gray, with pale sunlight breaking through in patches. The fire crackled warmly in the center of their little camp, smoke curling upward like a lazy ribbon.

Max was already sitting on a log near the fire, a strip of bacon in his hand, his face lit with pure joy. Dad flipped another batch in the pan, humming to himself, while Mom poured steaming coffee from a thermos into a tin mug.

Lily shuffled closer, shivering. "How can you guys be so cheerful? It’s freezing."

Dad grinned without looking up. "It’s not that bad. It’s invigorating!"

"It’s miserable."

Mom handed Lily a mug of coffee. "Here. Drink this. It’ll help."

Lily accepted it grudgingly, wrapping her cold hands around the metal cup. The heat seeped into her fingers, and she took a cautious sip, wincing at the bitter taste. "Couldn’t we have just done a day hike instead? We didn’t have to camp overnight."

Max snorted. "Then you wouldn’t have had the full experience. Come on, admit it—this is pretty cool."

Lily gave him a long, skeptical look. "I can’t feel my toes."

"That’s part of the adventure!" Dad said, turning to her with an exaggerated grin. "Imagine all the stories you’ll have to tell your friends when you get back."

Lily raised an eyebrow. "Assuming I don’t die of frostbite first."

Dad laughed, passing her a plate with a couple of bacon strips. "Eat. You’ll warm up. And stop being so dramatic."

As she nibbled on the bacon, the warmth of the fire finally started to sink in. The smoky, salty flavor of the food was a small comfort, and for a moment, Lily allowed herself to look around at the quiet beauty of the snow-covered mountains. The world felt vast and untouched, like they were the only people for miles. Despite herself, a tiny part of her could see why her parents had wanted this.

But she wasn’t about to admit that out loud.

"Still think we should’ve just rented a cabin," she muttered, earning a chuckle from Mom.

Dad pointed his spatula toward her, smirking. "Where’s your sense of adventure?"

Lily smirked back, her sarcasm intact. "I left it at home. Along with my cell service."

Max giggled, and even Mom cracked a smile.

The fire crackled, and above them, a soft breeze shook the branches, sending a light dusting of snowflakes fluttering down like confetti. The family sat together, huddled around the warmth, as the world outside remained wild and still.