Jane
“This is going to work, Jane.” Ethan promises. “We’re going to get to them first.”
I’m having a hard time believing it. I want it to be true, but every near miss we experience sends me deeper and deeper into depression. I can’t live without my babies, I can’t survive this constant worry. I’m beginning to associate hope only with pain and disappointment. It doesn’t feel safe to hope anymore – I think it only invites heartbreak. After all, if I don’t hope, at least I won’t be surprised when my worst fears are proven to be real.
The depression and woe makes me want to give up. To curl into a little ball and never get out of bed. Of course, I don’t have a bed to languish in, and if we stop moving we risk missing the pups or worse, being caught by the King. We drove through the night to
