Raymond was waiting by the northern trucks, hands in his coat pockets, posture relaxed but watchful. The kind of presence that fit beside someone, not in front of them.
“You're late," he said mildly.
“I was returning keys," Clara replied.
“Did they thank you?" he asked.
“They acknowledged me," she said. “That's all I wanted."
---
He opened the passenger door. “Seat's yours if you want it."
She climbed in without hesitation. The truck started forward, tires crunching over snow. Through the side mirror, Anderson territory grew smaller, its walls fading into the white.
---
“What are your pack's laws?" she asked after a mile.
He glanced at her. “Structure first. Mercy where it's earned. No punishments without proof. No secrets that keep people in harm's way."
“And training?"
“Stron
