THESSARA'S POV
The invitation sat on my kitchen counter for three days. White envelope. Simon's handwriting. Medical conference in Seattle.
I hadn't touched it.
Every time I walked past it, something twisted in my chest. Sharp. Like a warning.
My phone buzzed. Simon again.
*Did you get the invitation? The trauma response keynote is supposed to be groundbreaking. I would love to have you there.*
I stared at the message. Simon was kind. Brilliant. Normal.
Everything I pretended to be.
I typed back. *Got it. Still thinking about it.*
The moment I hit send, pain shot through my ribs. I gasped and gripped the counter.
My wolf didn't like that answer.
"Stop it," I whispered. "Just stop."
She pushed back harder. Clawing at my insides.
I grabbed the hidden books from under my bedroom
