Grace of a Wolf by Lenaleia

Chapter 171: Grace: Not Paranoia

The phone in my back pocket chimes with a notification. I wipe peanut butter off my fingers, and Jer snatches the PB&J with a quick, "Thanks!" tossed over his shoulder.

For whatever reason, he and Sara are in some sort of competition, where they’re counting white cars (Sara) and red cars (Jer). They also yell out when they see tow trucks pass—as if rubbing salt into the wound of our long wait.

Caine and Andrew are outside with the dog, probably still staring at the tire they can’t fix.

Whatever keeps them happy, I guess.

Since Bun’s napping on Ron’s lap and my hands are once again free, I check the phone, expecting to see another Divinity Connect message.

Instead, I see Lyre’s name.

[LYRE: Owen’s place was burned down. Good thing you got out.]

I gasp. Burned down?!

Ron glances up from where he’s been playing with Bun’s feet as she sleeps. "Everything okay?"

"Hm? Oh. Yeah. Everything’s fine." I’m already lying to children. I’m a terrible mother. "I’ll be right back. I need to call Lyre."

"Okay," Jer and Sara chorus.

My hands shake as I duck into Lyre’s bedroom and shut the door. This isn’t a conversation to have over texts.

The phone rings over and over, until finally it clicks.

Before she can even say hello, I demand, "What do you mean, burned down?"

crashes. There’s shouting, then a sound like glass breaking. Suddenly, it

ash." Her voice is as

Now is not the time for humor. "You know what I mean.

got his car, too. The rest of the street was fine, so the fire

to remember the cave was somehow connected to a

"And the cave?"

"It’s... fine."

truth, though, and my suspicion

you now? Where did you

mirror. Blonde hair I’m finally used to. Dark circles

snot. Not mine, obviously,

look as frazzled as I

like it would be easy in the first place, but I was wholly unprepared for the

hah.

on

When I finally finish, dwindling into silence after telling her about the flat

it?" she drawls. "Try to stay safe, at least. Let me know if you need money, I’ll add more on

you’re generous) might be considered pride bristle. It’s good to know I have some somewhere,

what little pride I’ve managed to accrue shrivels. I’m still too dependent, but it isn’t like life’s slowed down since

it anyway." There’s a note of dismissal

this strange lifestyle I’ve somehow acquired. Who am I to argue with free money? If it wasn’t for Lyre—and now Caine—I’d

I can respond, a wet, sloppy sound comes through the line, followed immediately by a high-pitched scream. It makes my ears tingle uncomfortably. A slight

checking the screen as if it might show me what’s happening. "Lyre, what are you doing right

clearing up an infestation." Her tone remains casual, as if she’s swatting flies. And yet it sounds quite violent on her end of the line.

for all kinds

this a