I stood at the center of the fair I'd built for my daughter, watching the minutes tick by with growing frustration. Three hours past the announced opening time, and the fairground remained eerily empty. No excited children running between colorful booths. No families queuing for the towering Ferris wheel. No one at all.
My grand gesture—a permanent fairground built exactly to Violet's childhood drawings—had failed spectacularly.
"Alpha," Daniel approached cautiously, clipboard in hand. "Perhaps we should consider—"
"She'll come," I snapped, cutting him off. "The entire territory has seen the billboards. She knows I'm waiting for her here."
Daniel nodded, though I could see the pity in his eyes. It made my wolf snarl with anger. No one in the pack believed me about Violet. They all thought I was delusional, unable to accept my daughter's death.
