“Because Kaci weighs about a third what Lucas weighs.” My mother finished the wrap and secured it with a metal butterfly-shaped clip. “So she had a lot less weight pulling against their talons.”

“That, and they had her by the arms, instead of the shoulders,” I added. “And they were trying not to hurt her, whereas their plans for Lucas likely included a forty-foot drop.”

My mom stood and carefully lowered his foot to the floor. “You’ll have to Shift a couple of times before you…head outside.” Her face went white at the thought of the fight to come, but her expression remained resolved. Strong. “But clear that with the doc, first. Those shoulders may not want to support your weight for a while.”

I shot my cousin a sympathetic look, then continued down the hall.

But I only made it ten feet before Mateo’s voice caught my attention and I stopped outside Manx’s bedroom. I shouldn’t have listened. The closed door said they wanted privacy, and the anxious whispers only underlined that fact. But across the hall, Owen was sleeping off his latest dose of pain pills, and while Manx and Teo weren’t my business, they were my brother’s business. So I told myself I was listening for him.

“…not safe here anymore, and our door is always open to you. You have choices, Mercedes. You don’t have to stay here just because this is where you landed, or because you feel obligated to them.”

A dresser drawer slid shut. “I like it here,” Manx said, in her firm, lilted speech.

“I know. I just want you to know that we’d be happy to have you. I’d be happy to have you. I can take care of you, Manx. You and Des.”

Her footsteps paused, and I pictured her staring at the ground, clothes in hand as she weighed what was best for her son against what was best for her heart. “Yes,” she said finally. “I believe that you can.”

That was all I could take.

Yes, Manx had choices, but sometimes choosing for yourself is just as hard as accepting someone else’s choice for you.

Twenty-four minutes later, we stood by the back door, the women at center stage. Kaci wore a stuffed backpack and cradled a sleeping Des, who was blissfully unaware of the danger we were about to carry him into. I had my old college book bag, and just behind us, Mateo Di Carlo carried Manx’s duffel over one shoulder, and his own smaller bag over the other.

My heart ached as I hugged my mother. We weren’t sure whether or not she fell under Malone’s orders to spare the women, since she was beyond childbearing age and long-since married. My father had tried to talk her into going with us, just in case, but she’d stubbornly refused.

“Are you sure you won’t come?” I whispered as I clung to her. “You know how impulsive and bullheaded I am. I could use someone to keep me in line.”