Karl
Leaning back in the creaking desk chair, I pinch the bridge of my nose. This week’s pack meeting feels like a special kind of torture.
It’s not that Ethan is the trouble—actually, he’s been a huge help—but it’s more so that I’m sitting hunched over at a rickety desk in a cheap motel, and I hardly slept at all last night.
“Well, that was a productive meeting, if I may say so myself,” Ethan says, his face smiling at me through the video call.
“Yeah.” I offer him a smile of my own, although it doesn’t even come close to reaching my eyes. “I think the new trade tariffs might ruffle some feathers at first, but once people see the benefits the extra funds have on our pack, such as highway improvement, they’ll soften toward the idea.”
Ethan nods. “Absolutely.” He pauses
