* Rachel *I'm a grown-up, and I thought I wouldn't cry when I was leaving. But I was wrong. The morning I left for the city, Mama Dorina woke me up at five in the morning, even though my bus, no, my ride, wasn't until six. She braided my hair so tight it hurt a little, like she did when I was very young and she didn't know how to braid human hair yet and pulled too hard."My flower," she whispered into my hair, "you're eighteen and going to be a nurse. Healer Mira said you have those soft hands.""Mama, you're going to make me cry again before we even get to the porch," I whispered back."Good, then we cry together and Matilda won't know who started it."Downstairs, the Alpha house was quiet. Matilda had packed five jars of soup, two loaves of bread, and a note that said "Don't trust city bread, pup. Eat this." I knew she was already crying while making her dough.Papa Ivan was waiting by his old pickup, that same old pickup that rattled me home from Elm's Crossing twelve years ago.
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