I did not sleep well after the letter.
That was honest. I lay in my narrow bed and stared at the ceiling and my mind kept circling back to the same things no matter how many times I tried to redirect it. A woman frightened and injured arriving in the night with a three day old baby. My parents swearing to keep it secret. Twenty one years of silence.
Who was she.
What was she running from.
And what did she mean when she said I was not ordinary.
My wolf had no answers. She just stayed alert inside me, watchful, like she was waiting for something to arrive that she could already smell from a distance.
By the fourth night after the letter I had made a quiet decision. I would stay in the town a little longer, save more money, and then I would move on. East, I thought. There were older ter
