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I watched as they laid his body on the stretcher. Werewolves surround him. Their eyes were filled with crocodile tears and their faces with fake pity.

My mother had her hand clutching the foot of the board, her voice loud and heavy with pain. I couldn't look for long. Neither could I hold in the guilt that engulfed me like a wet, thick blanket.

The pack members had looked at me with disgust and silent blame.

While some didn't even try to hide it.

“She killed her father. But I just ...