Koda's POV
The room smelled wrong. Too clean, too sharp—like the medicine Mama made me take when I had a fever. It didn’t smell like Alice. Not like the woods after it rained, or the way she always carried the scent of pine and something warm, like the pack house kitchen when cookies were baking. This place was cold.
Beta Joel carried me inside like he always did. He didn’t have to, but I think he knew my legs felt funny when we got close to Alice’s bed. I clutched my book tighter as he set me down in the chair beside her.
She didn’t move.
She never moved.
I hated it.
Her face looked different now, too still. Her brown hair was spread over the pillow, and I could see the bandages on her arm, the ones Mama changed every day. I knew there were more under the blanket, but I tried not t
