Derrick
At eight, on the dot, Alisa pounds on my door. There’s a doorbell, but she must have missed it. Knocking on the reinforced doors is difficult, yet she somehow managed to do it, probably cracking her hand in the process.
Egbert kept his eyes on her the whole day. Guarding my companion is not his job, but he was concerned about her. He told me that she just wandered around like a lost puppy, shying away from the other wolves whenever they approached her.
When he returned, he was more certain than ever that he had made a mistake by bringing Alisa here. “This place is going to chew her up and spit her out like old leather,” he announced as he poured himself a drink.
“She will toughen up,” I replied with a certainty I didn’t really feel.
She may be skittish around others, but she
