Delilah's POV
Sitting with wolves my age meant sitting with people who'd heard Mateo's accusations at the healing center. People who thought I was diseased and contaminated and not worth knowing.
"Actually," I said quickly, "I was thinking I could help serve instead."
Mom's smile faltered. "Serve? Why would you want to do that?"
"Because I'd feel more useful that way. More like I'm contributing." I scrambled for a believable excuse. "Sitting at a table making small talk with people I don't know sounds awkward. But serving means I'm doing something, helping make the night special."
"Honey, you're not staff. You're family. You should be enjoying the celebration, not working it."
"I'd enjoy it more if I was helping. Please, Mom. Let me do this."
She studied my face and I could see her
