But that didn’t mean I wouldn’t be getting what I came for.
I straightened my coat and headed for the door, my mind racing.
Okay, tookmahra.I had one clue about where my sister might be and who she might be with.
I pulled out my phone as I stepped outside, only to groan in frustration. Not a single bar of reception, and all the WiFi options needed passwords.
Great.
Maybe heading back down the mountain would help—at least I could look up this “tookmahra” thing or figure out where to go next.
I unstrung my scarf to rewrap it tighter around my neck for the hike back to the RCMP station.
But it slipped from my hand when I spotted a row of signs strung across a path leading further up the mountain. Like a fence.
The flickering glow of the Bear Mountain Bar & Grill sign illuminated the words:
Ayaska Village.
DO NOT PASS.
Only Bear Mountain Residents Allowed Past This Point.
VISITORS NOT ALLOWED.
I wasn’t a Bear Mountain resident.
But my father died less than a year after I was born, my mom had gone back to my evil stepdad and was no longer returning my calls, and my beloved little sister that I used to talk to near daily was somewhere in this town.
Maybe in the Ayaska Village I wasn’t supposed to visit.
Go home!
The Mountie’s voice echoed in my head as I stepped past the row of warning signs. And fear prickled through a nervous system still shaken by the chaotic bar fight.
But I squared my shoulders. I wasn’t going home. Not yet.
I strode up the dark, snow-covered road, my jaw set with determination. If my baby sister was in that village, I was going to find her.
3/
for whom?
12 hours later
takoda
Anest. My bear had built a nest. Blankets and pillows were piled in the center of the den, arranged like a haphazard altar of soft things. But why? And for who?
For whom, not for who.
Zion’s voice echoed in my mind, as patient and exacting as ever. My maul father continued to correct my grammar—even though I hadn’t spoken to him since he stood by and let my mother exile his birth daughter and my womb twin, Mara, five years ago—just two years before she betrayed me by handing my legacy off to our little brother, then dying without ever telling me why.
Bitterness leached into the confusion swirling around my chest, the one friend I could always count on to show up no matter the circumstances.
I rubbed my temples, scanning the den for my shredded uniform. But there was nothing. No clothes, no clues. Just the nest, sitting there like a quiet accusation in the middle of the den that I’d refused to accept as a gift from Mak. My bear, apparently, had other ideas last night, though.
What the hell had happened here? I grabbed onto that question, holding it tight to keep my mind focused as I looked around for clues. But…nothing.
