Brooks’:
The cabin couldn’t be our safe haven. We had to return. We had to face this head on. I knew it the second Forest looked me in the eye and said, “We have to go back.”
I wanted to fight him on it—I almost did. But one look at Hattie, her tired eyes filled with trust and exhaustion, and I knew he was right. We couldn’t keep running. Not like this. We needed our family, our pack. And if we didn’t move now, we’d lose what little lead we had.
“We can’t take the truck,” Forest warned, his tone low and serious. “They’ll be tracking it. We go on foot. We’ll cut through the eastern ridge—stay low. It’s the quickest route back to our border.”
I cursed under my breath. The thought of leaving the truck made me uneasy—it was my way out, my backup plan. But Forest was right. He usually was.
