They were married three weeks later, on a Saturday afternoon in a small garden behind Maria's restaurant — Maria's idea, offered the week after the sentencing recommendation came through, delivered almost shyly, like she wasn't sure the offer would be welcome.
"It seemed right," she'd told Enzo, when he'd asked why. "Your father's guilt paid for a lot of silence in my life. I'd rather it pay for something honest instead, for once. Get married in my garden. Let something good finally come out of all of this."
Wren stood in the small back room of the restaurant, in a simple ivory dress that had nothing to do with the elaborate ceremonies she'd grown up expecting from pack life, and looked at her reflection with an expression she almost didn't recognize — steady, certain, entirely at peace.
