Selena.
As we entered the car and headed toward our pack house gates, I found myself glancing back.
Some small, foolish part of me still hoped they would come. That they would say goodbye. That they would choose me once, just once.
I kept expecting to hear my mother call my name. I kept believing my father would appear, even to nod.
They never did.
Tears stung but I fought them back.
I felt like a child again, leaving home without a farewell, pretending I was brave enough not to look back.
The journey to Denver’s pack was quiet, and the land changed as we moved farther from everything I had known.
The trees grew thicker, the roads rougher, and the air colder and cleaner, as if the world itself were different here.
I sat beside Denver in the vehicle, my hands folded in my lap, wat
