I couldn’t sit.
I couldn’t stand still either.
My boots scuffed the same path over and over outside the pack house, my fists clenched, jaw wired shut like I was holding back the storm brewing in my chest. The air tonight felt too still, like even the wind was holding its breath. Something was off—I could feel it in my bones. And it had started the moment I saw him.
Ezra.
Smiling like he belonged here. Like nothing was out of place.
But everything was out of place. Especially Eleanor.
Then I saw her.
She was walking slowly toward her room, head slightly lowered, shoulders squared like she had something to prove. Like always. Pretending she didn’t feel the weight pressing down on her from every direction. Pretending like the burden of never being enough didn’t leave bruises she had to
