THE WORD scheidung stole my breath for a moment. Or maybe I was just surprised by Justice’s use of the language of our shared childhood.
Because, while living next door to a passive-aggressive Grace in New York City, family had made more sense than the term I’d grown up with—wolfsrudel. Lately, among skinless, I’d fallen into the pattern of thinking of pack mates instead.
Our ability to consider ourselves wolfsrudel, pack mates, or family were all in doubt if my twin wanted to talk about the trial divorce she’d instigated last summer. No wonder I could barely cling to the cell phone Justice handed over.
I swallowed, glancing around at my audience. All except Justice had super-sensitive lupine hearing. I didn’t think I could handle holding this conversation with so many people listening
