Chapter 1

“Sign here, Nora. Ivy needs to know what you’re willing to do for her.” My father turned the tablet toward me. At the other end of the dining table, my birthday dessert sat untouched beneath a pair of half-burned number candles.

Ivy was in my usual chair, wrapped in my mother’s knitted shawl. A dressing covered the back of her hand where an IV had been removed. Years of being forced to suppress her shifts had damaged her nerves; her fingers trembled around her fork.

I didn’t doubt she’d suffered. That afternoon, I’d gone with Mom to pick her up from the clinic. But nothing on the screen had anything to do with paying for her treatment.

My first shift, running through the woods, anniversaries with Evan. Dad had divided the parts of my life I treasured most into four charges. A note at the bottom specified that loans and money I’d earned wouldn’t count toward payment.

The total was $940,000, payable to Ivy Reed. A buyer’s estimate appeared beneath it. He’d even found a dealer who bought memories for potion ingredients.

“You adopted me when I was four.” I looked up at him. “I didn’t take her. I didn’t steal her life.”

Mom covered Ivy’s trembling hand with her own and wouldn’t meet my eyes. “Nobody’s blaming you for the kidnapping. But you can’t pretend you didn’t benefit.”

“So you loved me, and now you’re billing me for it?”

“Watch your tone.” Dad was Blackpine’s Beta. He wasn’t used to having his decisions questioned at his own table. “Ivy was locked in a basement by the people who were supposed to look after her. You had a family, a mate, a marking ceremony to look forward to next year. Doesn’t any of that make you feel guilty?”

I turned to Luke. He was cutting up the chicken on Ivy’s plate. He set down his knife with an impatient clatter. “She can’t even sleep with the lights off, and you’re still arguing about who’s right?”

I’d carried my floor lamp into her room the night before. I knew she was afraid of the dark. I hadn’t realized that was another charge against me. I’d helped because she needed a light, without once asking her to be grateful. Now even knowing what she’d been through apparently meant I had no right to question the bill.

Evan sat beside me. At the clinic that afternoon, he’d rested his hand against the back of my neck and told me not to worry because he was there for me.

Now he picked up the tablet and scrolled through the charges. “At least there’s a number. That’s better than leaving Ivy wondering whether you actually want her here.”

My wolf whimpered inside me. I pressed my palms against my knees so nobody would see them shake. Evan was close enough to notice. He hadn’t reached for my hand, and I was suddenly afraid to reach for his. “Do you even know how they turn these memories into money?”

“Witches have their methods. Don’t make this sound worse than it is.”

“If Nora doesn’t want to do it, that’s okay.” Ivy’s voice was barely audible. “I can move out.”

Mom immediately pulled her close. Dad put a hand on the tablet before I could push it back. “You’ve got seven days. I want an answer before the welcome-home celebration.”

I took out my phone and photographed every page without signing. “I’m going to find out what you’re asking me to do.”

The next morning, I visited a witch’s clinic in town. Maeve wore jeans, and a coffee mug sat beside the computer she used for appointments. She read the list without trying to hurry me along.

“This is a price list they gave you, Nora. It doesn’t mean you owe them anything.”

“I know.” My grip tightened around my phone. “I need to know if it’s possible.”

She set a small bottle of deep blue liquid between us.

“Memories of the people you’ve cared about most are valuable ingredients because of the feelings attached to them. That’s what the buyers are paying for. Before each dose, we agree on exactly which memories you’re selling.”

She turned the list toward me.

“When those memories go, the feelings in them go, too. Someone you loved can become a stranger. But you’ll still remember your work, your skills, and people outside the relationships you’ve chosen. You won’t forget meeting me because you’ve sold your memories of your brother.”

“What if I change my mind after I take the money?”

“You can give the money back. You can’t put the memories back. They’re used up in making the potions. Photos and other people’s stories can tell you something happened. You can learn the dates, the places, even what you said to each other. But knowing those things won’t make you remember being there.” Maeve waited until I was looking at her. “You could know someone is your brother and have no memory of ever loving him.”

I stared at the bottle and remembered being sixteen, still struggling to keep up with the others after shifting. Luke had crouched at the entrance to the trail and rested his palm on my forehead. He’d promised he wouldn’t leave until I’d made it to the end.

Whenever I got scared afterward, I pictured his gray wolf waiting around the bend. Yesterday, he’d been angry that I wasn’t being considerate enough.

I slid the bottle back. “Not today.”

Outside, I called Evan and asked him to meet me by the training grounds. He arrived twenty minutes late, with Ivy’s rehabilitation schedule still open on his phone.

“Maeve says once they’re gone, they’re gone.” I held out the information she’d given me. “This isn’t uploading a video for somebody else to watch. I’ll actually forget you.”

He didn’t take the paper. He reached for my face instead, and I stepped back. [Please just read it. I need you to understand what I’m telling you.] “Then pick something else,” he said. “You’ve got a whole lifetime of memories. You’ll find enough.”

“Those are the ones worth money.”

He finally glanced at the page before looking back at me. “You never used to put me in the middle like this, Nora. Ivy can’t handle any more stress right now. Can you just help her feel safe?”

“What about me?”

His phone rang before he answered. Mom wanted to know whether he could take Ivy to her next appointment. He agreed, then turned back to me. “We’ll talk about us later.”

Back in my car, I removed the digital invitation to our marking ceremony from my home screen. Then I opened an email I’d saved two months earlier.

Riverbend Pack’s rehabilitation center had been hiring an assistant. Its director, Leah, had told me my placement evaluations were more than good enough for the job. I’d kept her offer, even after deciding I couldn’t leave Evan.

I wrote back to ask whether the position was still available. I needed somewhere to go if things at home didn’t change.

Then I booked another appointment with Maeve.

I still hoped that once the first payment arrived, Mom would ask what I’d lost. That she would finally understand what Dad’s list meant and tell him to stop.

I wasn’t ready to give up on all of them. The first memories I’d sell were the ones of my brother.