Mira's POV
Mira hit the school parking lot doing forty in a twenty-five zone.
Ms. Yesenia met her at the entrance, face tight with worry. "Dr. Whitmore, thank god. She's in the counselor's office. Won't talk. Won't move. Just keeps saying she needs both of you."
"Both—?"
"You and Alpha Ravencrest. She won't leave until you're both here."
Mira's heart sank. "Where is she?"
"This way."
The counselor's office was small, carpeted, filled with anxiety-reducing plants and motivational posters that did nothing to calm the four-year-old girl curled in the corner.
Brielle had her knees pulled to her chest, face buried, the stuffed wolf clutched so tight her knuckles were white. When Mira entered, she looked up.
Red eyes. Tear-streaked face. Shaking.
"Baby—"
"Where
