87

ALINA

Claude leaned back in his chair, shoulders sagging like the weight of the conversation had finally crushed him. He exhaled slowly and gave me a look that said more than words ever could. “I’m so sorry, Ally. I tried.”

I forced air into my lungs and pushed it out in a sharp breath, willing the pressure in my throat not to turn into tears. My lips stretched into something that might have passed for a smile if you didn’t look too closely. “Thank you. I know you did.”

But I had been sitting there the whole time, listening to every word Alexander had said over the phone. The finality in his tone had been like a lock clicking shut. Whatever thin thread of hope I’d been clinging to of going back to my old pack was gone.

It wasn’t that I truly believed I would find anything there. The odds were laughable.

But I needed hope that someone out there knew my parents or someone related to them. I had to know before coming up with an escape plan.

“Is it very important to you?” Claude’s voice was careful, like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know the answer.

I was still fighting for control of my breathing, each inhale shaky, my heart thudding against my ribs. It took me a moment to force the words out. “Kind of,” I said finally, after clearing my throat. “It’s the only home I’ve ever had. Even if it wasn’t much.” The truth spilled out before I could filter it.

Claude came around from behind his desk, his tall frame casting me in shadow as he stopped just behind my chair. I’d come to his office prepared for this to be awkward. I’d expected him to ask why I wanted to go back. Instead, he’d simply agreed to try talking to Alexander for me. That small act of kindness felt like a rare thing here.

Sitting there, I felt small. Not necessarily in the way a child feels when the furniture is too big, but in the way someone feels when they realize the person they’re pleading with holds all the power.

“Alina, you do know there’s nothing there anymore, right?” His voice was gentler than I’d ever heard it.

I tilted my head to look at him, catching the softness in his eyes. I almost laughed at how unnatural it seemed on him. “You’re not very good at comforting people, you know.”

A faint smile tugged at his lips. “Yeah. I’m aware.”

“But… I guess it’ll always feel like home to me,” I admitted, my gaze drifting to the floor. “I grew up there. Learned everything I know there. My first…” My voice trailed off. My mind filled in the rest, but I didn’t speak it aloud.

I needed to go back, but I wasn’t ready to tell him the reason. If I did, he’d have questions, questions I wasn’t prepared to answer.

“I’ll try to do better,” Claude murmured, stepping back to give me space. “For now, let’s wait. Once he’s finished with whatever he went there for, maybe he’ll be in a better mood. I’ll help you ask again.”

The gratitude rose in my chest before I could stop it. “Thank you, Claude. Really.”

I stood, heading for the door, but his hand suddenly closed around mine. The warmth of his palm startled a small gasp from my throat.

“I—I’m sorry.” He released me as quickly as he’d taken hold. There was a faint flush high on his cheeks, though I might have imagined it. “That was out of line. I shouldn’t have.”

I tried to smile, but my lips trembled instead. He cleared his throat. “It won’t happen again.”

I nodded once and left before either of us could make the moment any stranger.

By the time I reached my room, the same one I’d been given the day I arrived, I could still feel the ghost of his hand against my skin.

Inside, Lisa was crouched in front of my open closet, rearranging my clothes. She looked up with a quick, nervous smile, like she’d been caught doing something she shouldn’t. Which meant she was probably just bored.

“How did it go?” she asked, a flicker of hope in her eyes.

I dropped onto the bed and lay flat on my back, staring at the ceiling. “He said no.”

Lisa made a small sympathetic noise, then climbed onto the bed beside me. Her hand found my arm, giving it a reassuring squeeze. I covered her hand with mine, pressing back in silent thanks. “I knew he’d say it. I just… hoped I’d be wrong.”

“Maybe when he gets back, he’ll change his mind. He’s probably stressed.”

“That’s what Claude said.” I closed my eyes. “But I don’t want to expect too much. He sounded sure of himself.”

“Oh, you poor thing.” She pulled me closer, her arm looping around me.

Her presence was a small comfort in a place where comfort was rare. I hadn’t told her about the baby yet. I didn’t even know how to start that conversation. If Alexander found out from her, she’d be the one in trouble, and I couldn’t do that to her.

“He did say I could take some classes if I was bored,” I said, remembering the one thing in the conversation that didn’t feel like a door slamming shut.

Lisa’s eyes widened. She sat up so quickly it startled me. “That’s great! You could even take one outside the pack and see the city. You’d love it. it’s beautiful.”

“I guess that’s good,” I said, though my mind was already somewhere else. Classes could mean leaving the pack grounds. Leaving meant more opportunities to see the world beyond Alexander’s territory. And maybe… a chance to disappear.

I decided then I’d tell Claude I was interested. It didn’t matter what the class was. I’d never been to a real school. We didn’t have those in the camp.

“What would you want to study?” Lisa asked.

I thought for a moment, then shook my head. “No idea. My parents… I heard they were into healing. Maybe something like that.”

“Do you think you could be a doctor?” Her eyes lit up.

I laughed softly. “That takes years of school, and I’ve never been to one. But maybe. Or maybe nursing.”

She nodded enthusiastically. “Even better. You’d be busy all the time. And of course, I’d go with you. I’d be your assistant.” She smirked, glancing over her shoulder like she always did when she suspected someone might be listening. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

I let her dream out loud, describing all the things we’d do with the freedom of school. It was wild, and unrealistic but Lisa didn’t care about that. And for today, I didn’t either.

When she finally quieted, my hand drifted to my stomach. The thought came again, more sure this time. I wouldn’t stay here forever. If I could get far enough away, somewhere Alexander wouldn’t find me, I could build something real.

I could become someone my child could look up to. Someone who could tell them, truthfully, that they could be anything.