Natalie returned to Sam's room. His belongings were sparse to begin with—most of what he had, Natalie had insisted on buying for him. Even so, the room felt eerily empty. The traces of their shared life, the little markers of their time together, were nearly gone. The gifts she'd given him, the souvenirs from their trips, even the photos Sam cherished so fiercely—all vanished.
She sat on the windowsill, gazing out as dry, yellow leaves spiraled to the ground. A glint from under the bed caught her eye, and she stiffened. Kneeling, she pulled out a dusty object and brushed it clean. It was a jade pendant, the one she'd bought with her first scholarship money.
In their hometown, elder wolves gifted jade pendants to young pups coming of age, less as jewelry and more as a symbol of family ble
