When I left the packhouse that night, it was really late. I drove to the house, unlocked the door quietly, stepped inside, took a shower to wash off the day's tension, and changed into my pajamas before heading toward the bedroom.
When I walked into the bedroom, Adam was sitting up in bed with pillows propped behind him, reading over some paperwork for the pack. As I entered, he paused, set the papers aside on the nightstand, and watched as I got into bed beside him.
“How did it go?” He asked.
“It was alright. She told me about her perfect family and perfect upbringing. She’s not staying. She’s going back in a couple of days. Apparently, you said that you would loan her the private plane to go home.” I said.
“Yeah. It beats waiting for the next boat to get here.” He said.
“Yeah. I kno
