I hadn’t left this empty pack house.
After Isabella had run out of my office, I’d walked back to the new recruits, given them a halfhearted speech, and then sat in my bedroom. Staring at the closed door. Wondering if this was the right choice. Hurting worse than she did.
The pain hadn’t faded. Not when I led practice the next day. Not when I ran through the woods and saw her curtains closed. Not when I locked myself in my office and couldn’t focus on any task for long enough to finish it.
It was nine p.m. on Saturday. The moonlight flooded into my office through the open windows. If I focused hard enough, I could smell her sweet scent lingering on my desk. I tore a sheet of paper from my journal. The fifth drawing of her I had done today.
I tried not to draw her, knowing that I would o
