The morning sun streamed through the window, illuminating Zephyr's cozy bedroom. He sat at his reading table, fingers poised over the laptop keyboard, eyes locked on the screen as he checked his mailbox.
It's the fifth day now since his mother left, and the third day since Sylvia's been in Coma. The wounds her condition left on his heart were still fresh, but the thought of faking her death carried a different weight. One that could cost him everything, even more than him losing both his pack and job.
He sucked in a quick breath along with the crushing pain lingering in his heart before typing on the mail box.
Dear mom,
It's me again, Zephyr. It's been five days now since you left and I haven't heard a word from you. I hope all is well.
His fingers lingered a second on the keypads.
T
