Clara’s pov
The letter showed up on a Thursday, tucked under the napkin holder at the counter like it had been waiting for me.
Marnie slid it across when I came down for the morning shift. “Mail for you. Postmark from somewhere north. You got people writing already?
I stared at the envelope. Plain white. My name in dark ink I recognized even before I touched it. No return address, but I knew.
Thanks, I said, and stuck it in my apron pocket without opening it.
Marnie raised an eyebrow but didn’t push. “Suit yourself. Coffee’s ready.”
I worked the breakfast rush the same as always, eggs, toast, refills, wiping tables.
The letter sat against my hip the whole time, a thin square of paper that felt heavier than it should.
My wolf had been quiet for weeks. Now she lifted her head, rest
