Chapter 227

• Before I was born, my parents had lived in a different pack. Though I barely remembered, flashes of jagged mountains in the distance and the sticky, humid air
• would sometimes come to me. We hadn’t stayed there long—not nearly long enough for me to form lasting memories.
• Standing in the house now, it felt oddly familiar yet foreign. The place was modest but immaculately kept. A large navy sofa hugged the far wall, cluttered with old dolls and scattered coloring books. Broken crayons dotted the floor, and to the left was a small kitchen,