Silence filled the car as Sawyer and her mother followed the moving truck through the heart of HecateCity. Sawyer rested her head against the passenger side window, thoughts speeding by in time with the cityscape.

So much had changed in the five years she had lived in the bar district: new buildings and roads, old warehouses demolished and replaced with playgrounds or skate parks. It was odd, Sawyer noted, seeing people out and about in the daytime. There were friends shopping and families enjoying the weather in one of the parks—not a seedy character among them.

Sawyer shifted in her seat and brushed her hair away from her face. Gone were the long nights and tired feet, the few hours she got to sleep. As of today, she no longer had to deal with drunken patrons and fend off unwanted sexual advances. No one was counting on her to tend a bar, act as a server or maid, or make sure the till was correct at the end of the night. Not only that, but for the first time in a long time, a full refrigerator was waiting for her at home; no more counting pennies and living off of cheap, questionable ramen. Everything she had spent sleepless nights agonizing over had vanished in the rearview mirror.

Nearly everything.

Mom stopped at a red light, right next to a very familiar building with bright lights and a massive parking garage: Stillwater Casino. Oh, shit. Sawyer quickly scrunched down, wishing that she had a hoodie or jacket—anything to cover her lavender hair.

"Sawyer? What's wrong, sweetheart?"

"Please tell me that he's not there," she whispered, peering over the car door. Her heart began thudding wildly in her chest as she remembered the alpha's massive fangs and claws, the blood flowing down her arm.

"Who?" Mom asked, peering across her to look through the passenger side window.

"Alpha Owen."

"No, I don't see him," her mother replied quickly, but Sawyer noticed that her grip tightened on the steering wheel.

"Did he ask you about me after ... what happened?"

Mom sighed, fingers relaxing a little. "A couple of his enforcers showed up at the house that morning, but you were already gone. We showed them your note and they left. That was the last time we ever heard from him."

Sawyer took a deep breath, pressing a hand to her chest. Part of her had always worried that Alpha Owen would punish her parents. Relieved that it hadn't happened, her heartbeat slowed.

The light turned green and Mom put her foot on the gas, pulling away from the casino.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Licking her lips, Sawyer glanced at her mother. "Talk about what?"

Mom sighed softly. "Everything. You didn't say much that afternoon. And, well, we didn't get to talk about it afterward."

Sawyer dropped her head to stare at the plastic bag her mother had hooked onto the glove compartment. "No," she whispered. "Not yet."

From the way her mother's shoulders hunched, that wasn't the answer she was looking for. "All right," she allowed. "Just remember, we're here for you. And if you would rather not talk to us—or Caleb—I can call the therapist we went to."

Therapist? Sawyer straightened in her seat. "When did you and Dad see a therapist?"

Mom flashed a little smile. "Oh, all three of us went—me, Dad, and Lee."

"Why? When?" This was news to her.

"It was before we brought you home. The agency suggested that we attend a few sessions to help your brother process what was going on."

"Huh." Sawyer toyed with the hem of her shirt. "I'll think about it."

"Just remember, Savvy, you're not in this alone." Mom reached over and touched her hand briefly before putting it back on the steering wheel.

"I know. Thanks, Mom."

"You're welcome, sweetheart."

------------

Home, at least from the outside, was just as Sawyer remembered: a massive two-story grey Craftsman with flower pots hanging from the porch rafters. The decorative wreath Mom had purchased at a craft fair ten years ago still hung on the dark oak front door. The windows on the left side of the second story looked into Lee's old bedroom; the room on the right was Sawyer's.

Her room. Sawyer's throat tightened and she coughed to cover it up. Goddess, she never thought she'd ever set foot in there again.

Lee backed the moving truck right up to the open garage door. Mom pulled the car into the other open bay and they got out.

"Really, you should've just taken everything to the junkyard," Sawyer noted as they began hauling the decrepit couch out. Seeing all her stuff being laid out in her father's orderly garage filled her with shame. How had she managed to survive surrounded by this garbage?

"We'll deal with that later," Dad said with a grunt as he and Lee maneuvered the couch against the side wall.

"Yeah, maybe you want to set it on fire instead," Lee quipped, setting a cardboard box on the couch. "We can make s'mores."

Despite herself, Sawyer giggled. Her brother looked up and grinned. "It's good to have you home, Savvy," he said. "Now help us take your shit out of the truck."

It was funny how easily Sawyer fell back into old familiar habits. She hopped into the back of the truck while Dad stood there, supervising. She and Lee jostled each other, shoulder to shoulder, like old times—except now, her brother was two inches taller and twenty pounds heavier than when she left him. Just like Caleb, werewolf puberty had turned him into an imposing, yet handsome man.

Unloading the truck took all of ten minutes. In no time, Lee and Dad were off, Dad following in his black pick-up. That left Sawyer and her mother alone.

Draping an arm around Sawyer's shoulders, her mother drew her inside. "Do you want to go up to your room?" Mom asked. "We didn't touch anything."

"Sure," Sawyer replied. She'd have to go in there eventually.

The staircase up to the second floor was lined with family photos. As Sawyer climbed, she was met with images of her life before everything changed: her sixth birthday party with Lee and Caleb leaning over her shoulders; here she was at age ten posing with a softball bat; there was a picture of thirteen-year-old Sawyer in front of Cinderella's Castle at Disney World. The very next photo was one of the whole family wearing Mickey ears and grinning.

Mom tapped the frame and said, "We should go again soon."

"To Disney World?"

"Anywhere, really. As long as we go as a family."

There was a slight catch in her mother's voice as she spoke. Sawyer glanced over her shoulder, but Mom looked away, rubbing her eyes with a thumb. Sawyer's throat tightened again with emotion.

As they reached the top of the stairs, Sawyer turned around and threw her arms around her mother, burying her face into Mom's shoulder. "I'm so sorry, Mommy," she said, the words coming out muffled.

"It's all right," Mom replied roughly, rubbing her back as if she were six years old again.

"It's all my fault," Sawyer heard herself sobbing.

"No! No, it's not!" Mom took a step back, holding Sawyer firmly by the arms. "Don't you ever blame yourself, do you hear me? You're home. Everything will be all right."

Sawyer pulled an arm free and wiped her eyes with the back of her wrist. "It's so hard to believe that," she sniffled. "I really thought he was going to kill me ..."

Mom's grip returned. "He's not," she replied, orange flashing in her eyes. "In three weeks, Ryan Stillwater will be alpha. All you need to concentrate on is getting some real sleep and let me stuff you full of all your favorite meals."

Three weeks. Sawyer swallowed and sniffed again. It shouldn't be too hard to stay off of Alpha Owen's radar for that long, right? Caleb's parents and sister wouldn't rat her out and Clan Bloodmoon was under her grandmother's control. Clans bowed to the alpha, of course, but unless Alpha Owen unleashed his Authority on them, they wouldn't break.

"You're safe," Mom insisted, eyes glowing.

Safe.

Sawyer looked around the familiar hallway, eyes latching onto a patched piece of railing on the staircase. She and Lee had broken that one time when they were kids over something stupid—she couldn't remember what—but she did remember her parents making them do extra chores to pay for the damage.

This was home. She was safe.

Taking a deep breath, Sawyer nodded.

When they reached her bedroom, Sawyer realized that her mother was right—nothing had changed. Her walls were still cream-colored, the carpet and bedspread a pale rose—the exact shade she'd once seen on one of her favorite reality programs. It didn't matter that her hair clashed with the color—sixteen-year-old Sawyer absolutely had to have it.

Her queen-sized bed sat in the middle of the room, a small pile of stuffed animals arranged on top of the pillows. TV, desk, chair, laptop and printer, walk-in closet, her shelf full of gardening books, and beloved comics collection—it was all there. Old posters and photos hung on her walls, including some with Caleb. A small smile curved Sawyer's lips as she traced the younger version of herself, wrapped safely in Caleb's arms at the beach. She had made so many memories in this room—doing schoolwork, watching her favorite shows, reading comics, hanging out with her friends. The tension she'd been holding in her shoulders eased as she looked around.

Safe. She was safe.

But one object was out of place.

Cocking her head, Sawyer picked up a small cardboard box that sat on her desk. "What's this?" she asked her mother, cocking her head.

"Open it."

Her name and address were printed on the top on a faded label. The return address read "Hecate City Vocational Technical High School". With a start, Sawyer realized what this box contained.

Grabbing scissors from her desk drawer, she slit the box open. Inside was a green mortarboard with black tassels; the letters "HCVTHS" in gold plastic hung next to the tassels. Beneath the mortarboard was a green graduation gown and her horticulture sash.

Biting her lip, Sawyer lifted the gown from the box and held it out, staring at it as emotions swirled in her heart. She'd left home with two weeks left of school and never got to go to all of her senior events, let alone walk for graduation.

Mom gently took the gown from Sawyer's hands and laid it back in the box. "So, I know this is a lot to put on you right now," her mother began, "but your father and I were discussing it on the ride to your apartment this morning."

"What's that?" Sawyer asked, toying with the school letters on the mortarboard.

"We want you to decompress and get reacclimated to living here, of course, but afterward, you need to get your GED."

Sawyer's eyes drifted over to a large horticulture textbook lying on the desk. She picked it up and flipped aimlessly through it for a few moments before putting it back down.

"And a job, of course," Mom added. "I know you had that internship lined up at Goldfinch's Nursery ..."

Sawyer snorted softly. "I don't think they'd remember me."

"It doesn't hurt to try," Mom told her, giving Sawyer a pointed look. A look that in no uncertain terms told her daughter that this suggestion was non-negotiable.

Pursing her lips, Sawyer ran her fingers over the cardboard box. Really, what her parents were asking of her wasn't extreme. It was actually quite fair. "I'll pay rent, too." She dug in her purse for the cash she'd put away for utilities and handed it out to her mother.

Mom smiled and pushed Sawyer's hand down. "We'll discuss room and board when you get a job."

"But—"

"No 'buts', Savvy. We'll discuss it later."

Admitting defeat, Sawyer replied meekly, "Yes, Mom."

"Good girl." She patted Sawyer's arm and turned. "Now, let's get something to eat. I'm starving. What do you want? Wings Over Hecate City? Or maybe something from that taco place you like ..."

Options. Expensive options. In a daze, Sawyer followed her mother out of her room and back down the stairs. It had been so long since she'd been to either of those places. It would take a while to make the necessary mental adjustments needed to reacclimate to living at home.

But she'd survived five years on her own. She could do it.