***BLAKE***

For two weeks, the house lived like nothing had ever gone wrong.

My mother cooked. My father did his alpha duties. They talked about the market, about the weather, about the pack like the most normal people in the world. Not once did they mention Logan. Not once did their expressions flicker with worry or longing or irritation—nothing. It was like he’d never been born. Like the place he used to fill in this house had always been empty.

And I watched all of it. Every day. ...