Last Chance Luna: The Bond Wouldn't Heal Her novel · Chapter 21 of 24

Chapter 21: The Head of the Table

She stood on the porch in her gray wool coat with snow on her shoulders.

Roe filled the doorway and did not move aside.

I came down the hall in his flannel with the cane, and the cracked photograph was already back on its nail.

"It's all right," I said. "Let her in."

"Elke."

"I want to hear it, and I want to hear it standing up."

Frieda stepped into the hall and wiped her boots on the mat, carefully.

Without the silver pin on her coat, she looked smaller.

She held a bundle wrapped in brown paper against her chest.

"I won't stay," she said. "I won't ask for anything. I came to say it where there is no one to watch."

"Say it."

"I knew the clause was cruel. I knew how it ended, because I watched it end. My sister died in that house in Viroqua, and I did not go to the funeral."

She said it flat.

"I told myself the pack needed a Luna who could run. I told myself I was doing it for Pia. That was a lie, and I knew it was a lie when I said it."

"I wanted the clause to be right. If it wasn't, then I had been wrong for forty-nine years."

Her chin shook, once.

"I was wrong for forty-nine years."

Nobody spoke.

She held out the bundle.

"This was hers. She quilted it in the winter she was sick. It's the only thing I have of her."

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