Chapter 4: Which Foot

Maisy came to the cabin before noon with a clinic bag and a look on her face I knew from the ward.

She only looks like that when a chart does not add up.

"Sit down," she said. "I need to tell you something and I need you to stay sitting."

I sat on the porch step with the quilt over my knees.

Tobias leaned on the rail at the far end, close enough to hear and far enough to be polite.

"Celia came into the clinic after the crash," Maisy said. "I was on shift. They put her in bay two."

"She had a scratch on her wrist," I said.

"She had a scratch on her wrist and nothing else. I helped undress her, Dara."

I waited.

"There was no belt mark. Not a line, not a bruise, not a red patch. You know what a belt does at that speed."

I knew. I had a purple band across my own chest from my shoulder to my hip, and it was three days old and still dark.

"Maybe she wasn't wearing it," I said slowly.

"The truck's belt chime is loud," Maisy said. "You'd hear it over a siren."

"She was driving my truck."

"I know."

"She said she thought it was the brake."

"I know what she said." Maisy rubbed her face. "I'm not saying I know what happened. I'm saying I'd like to hear her say which foot."

Tobias said nothing, but I felt him listening.

"There's a market on the green this afternoon," Maisy said. "The Alpha house sends a table every Saturday. Celia's been running it since yesterday."

"She's handing out casseroles."

"She's handing out sympathy," Maisy said. "In front of the whole pack."

Keep reading free with an account. Start He Chose Her, So I Refused to Become His Luna from Chapter 1, then sign up free to read the rest of this chapter.