Aria's POV
By late afternoon, I was back on my feet, my broom in hand, pushing through the last shift of the day. The sun was sliding low, painting the sky in dull amber, and the air smelled faintly of rain and exhaust.
Lana was bundled against my chest, she was quiet for once. Every few minutes she'd lift her head, her big eyes scanning everything before drooping shut again.
After an hour, I paused on a bench to stretch my back and wipe the drool from Lana's chin. I brushed my thumb over her cheek, grounding myself in her softness before getting up to finish the job.
The garbage truck rumbled up, filling the air with diesel and rot. I hauled a bin toward it, the muscles in my arms tightening, my wolf wrinkling her nose in disgust.
That's when I saw her.
An elderly woman with silve
