Hours later, Heidi waits until she's sure Sierra and her mother are tucked away in their respective corners of misery. Then she slips out of her room, barefoot, creeping down the hallway like a burglar in what's supposed to be her own house. She would have remained in her room had hunger not threatened to twist her stomach.
Her wolf murmurs, "Careful."
"Obviously," she mutters.
The kitchen glows under the dim under-cabinet lights. The fridge hums. The marble countertop chills the air. Heidi wonders if there's even anything she could put in her stomach.
She reaches for the fridge handle when footsteps suddenly start to drift in her ears. She turns, sharp with panic, when her nose catches the scent in the air. She doesn't need a PSA to know whose scent that is… Sierra.
Heidi's body reacts before her brain catches up. She darts behind the tall pantry cabinet, pressing her body against the wood, holding her breath so tightly her lungs burn.
