Chapter 5: The Front Desk

On Tuesday I went back to the clinic to sign my sick-leave forms.

Carrie had been called out to a farm, so the front desk was mine for ten minutes.

It was my own chair and my own stapler. I sat down in them and felt almost normal.

The bell over the door rang.

"Hey, Nan."

Colt came in alone, and he turned the lock behind him.

"We're closed," I said. "I mean, I think we are. I don't really remember the hours."

"Drop it."

He walked to the desk and leaned on it with both hands.

"I know you're faking," he said.

"Nobody jokes about their own name. You were scared, and you were putting on a show."

"I don't know what you mean."

"You do. You heard us in the hall."

I tilted my head and gave him the empty look.

"Heard what?"

His jaw worked. He came around the desk and caught my wrist.

"Listen to me," he said.

"My father is your legal guardian. He can pull you out of that house with one phone call."

"Let go."

"Say one word about Regan, to anyone, and I tell the pack you lied under Ward Law."

He leaned in so close I could smell his coffee.

"Lying under the Law is banishment, Nan. You're wolfless. Nobody takes in a wolfless girl who's been thrown out."

My pulse was racing.

I put my free hand flat on the desk and looked up at him.

"Let's say I did hear you," I said. "Let's say I remember everything."

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