The Year I Stopped Being His novel Chapter 167

"The second time was in the 2000s," Professor Harrison continued, his voice softer now. "I brought a student with me. It was the kid's first time seeing the aurora. He got so excited he sprinted out into the snow, tripped, and completely knocked out his front teeth. He came back holding his mouth, blood all over his hands, and just grinned at me. 'Totally worth it, Professor.'"

He lowered his head, staring at the deep red liquid swirling in his glass.

"He transferred to a different research institute after that. I never saw him again."

Diego stopped laughing.

His gaze drifted toward the canvas walls, as if staring at a memory of his own.

"My dad promised to take me to see the aurora, too. But... he never made it back. I don't even know which ice shelf he's frozen under right now..."

Professor Harrison looked at him, his eyes filled with a tender, paternal ache.

"Wherever he is, I am absolutely certain he would be incredibly proud of you."

"Yeah. Cheers to that."

Diego tapped the rim of his glass against the Professor's and threw the rest of the wine back in one gulp.

They drank a few more rounds. Professor Harrison's words grew sparser, his head drooping lower and lower. Eventually, he slumped over the table, his glasses knocked askew, breathing evenly as he fell asleep like a tired child. Diego leaned heavily against him, his fingers still wrapped loosely around an empty glass. He mumbled something completely incoherent before fading into silence as well.

The tent grew quiet.

The heater hummed its steady tune, and the stew in the pot had long gone cold. The projector kept spinning, projecting the silent, black-and-white classic onto the canvas wall where a man and a woman appeared to be riding bicycles through the countryside.

Josh wasn't drunk. He sat directly across from Sloane, watching her.

She was leaning back in her chair, holding the cooling mug of cocoa in her hands, her eyes fixed on the moving images on the wall.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked.

"Thinking about... my mom." Her voice was a bare whisper.

Josh remained silent, giving her the space to continue.

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