Trapper Creek was less than a town. Emily wanted to call it a village, if anything. Sam happily escorted her to a rusted out little Cadillac, his ‘first love’ he called it. It had a bit of a charm, the same sort of loving affection he had shown One-Eyed Pete the 4Runner back in Fairbanks. It also had a faintly musty smell, the slow decay of metal and vinyl, and it brought back memories of Emily’s parent’s car. The memory surprised her, and she told Sam about it, how her parents had taught her as much as they could. She also told him about their death, about growing up alone, and how it forced her to abandon the idea of any real relationship – the risk of having someone discover she was a Bear, or of the Bear suddenly waking up, was too great.
“That sounds really lonely.” Sam said.
“It wa
