Brielle
My father spent an entire hour choosing what to wear.
As I stood in the doorway watching him, something in my chest felt so tight. He kept adjusting his collar, checking his reflection, turning away from the mirror like it had said something unkind, then going back and checking again, like maybe this time it would say something different.
I knew that look. I'd grown up watching it on his face. He carried it around a lot. The Moonshine Pack had lost ground over the years. Other packs didn't say anything to our faces. They just said it with their eyes, pausing slightly before they answered us and smiling just a little too late, like they had to remind themselves to be polite to us.
My father never forgot every single one of those moments. Instead, he held onto them like bruises h
