Not only that, but just plain missing my damn sister?

I was sadly used to missing the twins. My siblings and I had what you might call an unorthodox upbringing. I’d found that “unorthodox” was a nice euphemism that covered all manner of sins.

It wasn’t uncommon for wolves to live in packs. Sometimes a pack will pool their finances and buy a chunk of land and live there together, like my dad’s pack had done. A pack was generally centered around a family, much like wild wolves, but humans were more social than that, and often ended up going beyond a single-family unit.

My father took it several steps further.

I closed my eyes and picked up my pace, my long stride eating up the sidewalk. I wasn’t going to go there. I’d moved across the country. I’d changed my name. I kept a low profile. That’s the kind of thing you had to do when your father was doing time in an Uncanny certified cellblock in a federal prison for starting his own fucking cult. My father wasn’t just famous, he was infamous. If you googled “Angus Alan Campbell” you would find article upon article detailing the terrible deeds my father perpetrated.

The shock. The horror.

If you dug deeper, you might even find a video of me standing shell-shocked, reporters shoving microphones and cameras in my face. That was what I remembered—the noise. The overwhelming cacophony of it. I’d grown up away from people, mostly outdoors. The urban setting where I’d been dragged into court was like stepping onto another planet.

So I stood there, Zoey at my side, her hand holding mine in a white-knuckled grip. The twins crying at my feet. The sea of reporters barely being held back. I could still feel Zoey’s hand in mine. The moment long and terrible. Then we each picked up one of the twins and turned away. Our lawyer managed to get us away from the din, taking us into the courthouse through a side door. After he was done apologizing, I made him promise that it wouldn’t happen again. I didn’t care how he managed it—I wasn’t dragging my siblings through that crowd. They’d already been through so much.

My chest tightened, panic surfacing like it always did when I thought about those days. My father. My stepmother. But I’d survived this long by picking up some tricks. I had to ground myself in the now. The smell of exhaust. The chill rising in the air, the day already a memory. The hurt on Lou’s face. For some reason, that stuck with me the most. The way her hands had clenched. They’d both been angry, but there’d been an air of disappointment around Lou. Like she’d expected better of me and I’d let her down. Which was ridiculous, because she’d just met me. But I couldn’t shake the feeling.

I found the entrance to the large, wooded park by Trick’s place and cut into it, despite the fact that it was after hours. I ran through the trees, giving myself over to the scents and quiet of the forest. The trees smelled like fresh rain, fir, and pine. Scent trails of humans, squirrels, rats, rabbits, and coyotes crisscrossed the trails. The park had a definite bunny population problem, which made my wolf perk up.