Next day I sat on the edge of the bed, still in my nightgown, my hands folded in my lap as I listened to the muffled voices coming from downstairs.
Uncle Marcus and Steven had been indulging in the conversation, their voices occasionally rising loud enough for me to catch fragments of conversation. Strategy. Consequences. Damage control.
They were trying to fix the mess I made, I thought, the familiar guilt twisting in my stomach. Trying to keep us all alive.
I'd been ordered to stay in my room. So I had nothing to do to help them.
A knock at the door made me jump. "Come in," I called, expecting one of the omegas with lunch I wouldn't be able to eat.
Instead, Steven entered, followed by Uncle Marcus, Rick, Brad, and Elder Benson. The sight of all of them together, their faces grave, m
