Hannah stood outside Tim and Sarah’s room, her hand raised to knock but hesitated for a moment. She could hear the muffled sobs of the children on the other side, and she could sense their pain even without being close. It had been days since the news of Kenneth’s final, undeniable death, and the packhouse was heavy with sorrow. It wasn’t the right time, but Hannah knew she needed to do something. The pack was mourning, and Jeffrey was struggling. Now was her chance to step in.
She knocked gently, then spoke softly, trying to soothe them. “Tim, Sarah, can I come in? I just want to talk.”
The sobbing on the other side stilled for a moment, but then a voice, Sarah’s, sharp with anger, cut through the silence.
“Go away! We don’t want to talk to you!”
Hannah’s heart skipped a beat. She had
