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Julie patiently answered every question thrown her way while making sure everyone ate.

My mother listened more than she spoke. She watched the room the way alphas did, aware of who had gone quiet, who needed redirecting, and which argument might become real if allowed to continue. Occasionally, her gaze landed on me.

I knew what she saw. The work. My exhaustion. The fact that I wouldn’t admit I was exhausted.

Halfway through dinner, she leaned toward me. “You’re taking tomorrow morning off.”

“I have to look at the Millstone documents. Karen said the hearing is Tuesday.”

“Today is Saturday.”

I huffed. “I know what day it is.”

“Do you?”

Julie hid a smile behind her glass.

I looked between them. “Was this planned?”

“No,” Mom said.

“Yes,” Julie said at the same time.

Mom frowned at her.

Julie shrugged. “This is healthy communication. We can tell you’re burnt out, so we’re giving you the nudge you need to take a break.”

“I’m fine,” I said.

Trevor leaned across the table. “I could handle Hudson’s responsibilities tomorrow.”

Everyone went silent.

Trevor looked around. “That reaction hurts my feelings.”

“You’re seventeen,” Mom said.

“Yes, but I’m a very responsible seventeen-year-old. I have organizational systems.”

“Does that organizational system include budgeting?” I asked with a gentle smile. “Besides, didn’t you lose your phone in the refrigerator last week?”

Trevor took a sip of water. “I found it, which shows resilience.”

I laughed, and Caldwell leaned harder against my side. Across the table, Julie caught my eye and smiled.

This was what I loved most about the pack. Not the responsibilities or the constant knowledge that any mistake I made could affect everyone. It was the ordinary clutter of being known. Someone always noticed whether you were tired, whether the scrape beneath your bandage was worse than you claimed.

Sure, it could be inconvenient at times, but it also gave you a sense of safety.

When the plates had been mostly cleared, Julie stood. “I tried a new dessert recipe.”

That had Grandpa Alfonse sitting straighter. “What kind?”

“Lemon cream cake.”

Mom glanced toward Julie’s dress. “Is that why you’re wearing yellow earrings?”

Julie touched one earring. “I believe in thematic commitment.”