It was cold outside, the wind sharp against her skin, but Abby didn’t want to go in quite yet. She had never lived in a place so quiet. Even growing up in a nice neighborhood, there had always been houses nearby, voices, cars, the constant hum of life.
Here, at Red Moon, in this small cottage tucked against the tree line, there was nothing but open space and silence.
She had made a simple dinner after Joe brought in their bags. Neither of them had felt up to going to the pack house. This felt important. To have their first dinner here be just the two of them.
In the last bits of fading light, Abby had wandered into the garden to explore. But winter was creeping in. The air had turned brittle, the sky dimming faster than she expected.
Now she stood at the edge of the yard, staring into
