I mean, unless something horrible’s happened, and in that case, I’m sorry.
Do what you do best and focus on the pack—not on me.
Be safe.
I love you beyond words, baby sister.
XOXO,
Peyton.
Dewi shuddered, sucking in several gasping breaths as she tried to hold back her tears. The words blurred on the page, her hand trembled…
And then Ken rested his hands on her shoulders from behind and leaned in, his head touching hers.
“I’m here, Dewi,” he whispered. “We’re all here. And we’ll get through this together.”
She didn’t trust herself to speak, at first, and no one interrupted the silence. She was well aware of them all watching her, focused on her, certain she would explode or run off or need to be tranqued or something.
And she got it. Maybe Dewi of a year ago, before Ken, before Lyssa, would have done exactly that.
She closed her eyes. “When all the Enforcers arrive,” she softly said, “we call them in here for a meeting. Immediately. Tell them I need to talk to all of them. Nothing gets said before then to anyone. Not even to Asia and the kids, not Tam—no one.”
She reached up with her left hand and gripped Ken’s, where it still rested on her shoulder. Then she opened her eyes and met Trent’s gaze. “Who knows? Maybe he’ll be found by then. Still, call all the Enforcers who were invited and confirm they’re attending. If they’re thinking about not coming, tell them I’ve called a mandatory Enforcer meeting to get them here. Blame it on me.”
She sensed her eldest brother studying her. “Dewi? Talk to me.”
She folded the paper and tucked it into the envelope. “I’m running off to Europe half-cocked,” she said. “So you can stop guarding the door, Da.”
Duncan chuckled but she didn’t turn to look at him.
Standing, she folded the envelope in half and tucked it into the back pocket of her jeans. “I want to talk to Gillian. Check on her.” Ken didn’t move as she walked toward the door. “I don’t want to discuss any of the rest of this until tonight,” she said, Duncan stepping out of her way after unlocking the door for her. “If there’s an update, tell me. Other than that…”
She opened the door and glanced back. “He’s still alive,” she added. “Unless or until someone shows me conclusive physical proof, Peyton’s alive. And that’s how we talk about him—alive.”
They all nodded.
She shut the door behind her and walked across the house, down the hall to the master bedroom.
Inside, she heard Gillian softly sobbing, likely into a pillow from the sound of it.
Instead of knocking she opened the door and stepped inside, closing and locking it behind her.
Gillian lay facedown on the bed, a pillow tightly clutched against her. Dewi suspected it was Peyton’s.
She rounded the bed, her own tears already flowing, and stretched out next to her. Gillian rolled onto her side and stared into Dewi’s eyes.
“I’m so mad at him for going,” she whispered. “I said horrible things to him. And I sent him horrible texts and left him angry voicemails.”
Dewi pulled her into her arms, crying with her. “He’s not dead,” she said. “I will not believe he’s dead. I just told them that, too. Unless they can prove it, he’s alive.”
They lay there crying for the better part of thirty minutes, holding each other, not talking.
Finally, Gillian broke the silence. “The vote will be tonight, right?”
“Yeah.”
Gillian slowly nodded. “Who?”
