The camera shutter clicks. Flash goes off. The moment is captured forever.
Our first Christmas. Our first pack photo.
The beginning of everything.
Sarah takes several more photos, giving us different instructions.
"Look at each other!" "Now look at the puppy!" "Everyone laugh!" "Now a serious one!" "And one more silly one!"
We follow her directions, laughing and joking and being completely ourselves.
Biscuit licks my face at one point, which makes everyone crack up. Nash makes a ridiculous face that has Theo elbowing him while trying not to laugh. Grayson pulls us all closertogether for a group hug photo that probably looks chaotic but perfect.
When Sarah finishes taking what must be at least twenty photos, she shows us the preview images on her camera screen. They're absolutely beautiful and perfect. The tree glowing brilliantly behind us. Snow falling like glitter caught in the lights. All of us smiling genuine happy smiles that reach our eyes. Biscuit looking adorable with his mouth open in a happy pant. Pack complete and whole and real and together.
"These will be in tomorrow's paper," Sarah says warmly, her voice kind and genuine. "Front page of the lifestyle section. 'New Pack Celebrates First Christmas in Oakridge.' I'll email you the high-resolution digital files too so you can use them for your Christmas cards and social media and whatever else you want. Congratulations on everything. The whole town has been rooting for you since day one. We're so happy you won."
"Thank you," I manage to say past the lump forming in my throat. "Thank you so much for everything."
Sarah pats my shoulder gently before leaving to photograph other midnight celebrators arriving at the tree. We return to the tripod where my phone is still livestreaming faithfully. The viewer count has climbed to 1,200 now. The comments are absolutely exploding with messages and emojis and excitement.
"We're back!" I tell the camera, slightly breathless from all the excitement. "That was our official first Christmas card photo as a pack! And it's officially Christmas now! Which means Grayson's book is officially published and available to the world!"
Grayson pulls out his phone with shaking hands, refreshing the Amazon page repeatedly like he can't quite believe it's real. His eyes widen dramatically. His mouth drops open. "It's live. It's actually live. Holy shit. People are already buying it. The rankis moving up. The reviews are starting to come in. This is real. This is actually happening. I'm a published author."
"You did it!" I squeal loudly, jumping up and down while still holding Biscuit who barks excitedly. "You're a real published author! Your book is out in the world! People are reading your words right now! Your dreams came true!"
Nash pulls Grayson into a rough hug, pounding his back.
"Proud of you, brother."
Theo joins the hug.
"Congratulations. You earned this."
I set Biscuit down and throw myself at all three of them, creating a massive group hug in front of the Christmas tree while snow falls around us and my phone continues livestreaming to over a thousand people who stayed loyal through everything.
"This has been the best Christmas Eve ever," I say into the camera when we finally break apart. "We won our court case. We adopted a puppy. Grayson's book launched. We got our Christmas card photo. We're officially a pack. And we have all of you supporting us. Thank you. Thank you so much for believing in me when everything looked bad. Thank you for waiting. Thank you for staying. You're not just followers. You're family too."
The comments fill with hearts and crying emojis and messages of love and support and people saying they'll always be there for us.
"We're going to head home now," I tell them. "It's late and we have Christmas morning tomorrow. Biscuit's first Christmas with us. Opening presents. Baking breakfast. Starting new traditions. Being a family. But I'll post more content soon. Regular schedule. More adventures. More dates. More of our lives. Because this is just the beginning. Our story isn't ending. It's just starting."
I blow a kiss to the camera. "Merry Christmas, everyone. From our pack to yours. Sweet dreams and happy holidays."
Theo ends the livestream.
The viewer count stops at 1,347.
Not tens of thousands. But real people. Loyal people. People who matter.
We stand there for a long moment, the four of us and Biscuit, under the massive Christmas tree in the center of Oakridge's town square, snow falling gently from the dark sky, lights twinkling in every color, church bells still echoing faintly in the distance, the air crisp and cold and perfect.
Six months ago I arrived in this town completely broken and utterly alone, running desperately from an abusive pack that had destroyed every bit of confidence I ever had, with nothing but a backpack full of clothes and determination to survive somehow. I had no money.
No job. No home. No hope for the future. No belief that anything would ever get better.
Just a desperate wish deep in my heart to find somewhere I belonged. To find people who would choose me.
