Chapter 4: Six Black Bags

Evander drove me home in a long black car that smelled like cold leather.

Neither of us spoke until the Fenners' street came into view.

Then he slowed down.

My things were on the lawn.

Six black trash bags sat in a row beside the front steps, and my desk lamp stood on top of them with the cord wrapped around its neck.

My mattress leaned against the porch rail.

Every porch light on the street was on.

Neighbors stood in their doorways in their coats, and none of them pretended not to look.

"They didn't waste time," I said.

My voice came out steady, which surprised me.

Camryn stood on the porch with her phone held up in front of her face, and she was smiling at the screen.

She was filming.

"Stay in the car," I said.

"No," Evander said.

He got out, came around, and opened my door.

I stepped onto the pavement in the heels I had worn to the supper.

My foster mother stood in the doorway with her arms folded.

"Seren," she said.

It was the first thing she had said to me in two months.

"You heard the Alpha," she said. "A girl with a mate sleeps in her mate's house. It's how it has always been done."

"You put my mattress on the lawn."

"We wanted to save you the trouble."

Camryn laughed, and the phone shook in her hand.

"Look at this," she said into it. "The poor little late shifter. Say hi, everybody. She found herself a vampire."

I walked up the lawn.

I did not cry, and I did not shout.

I picked up the first bag by its knot, and it was heavier than I expected.

A hand closed over the knot above mine.

"Don't," Evander said quietly. "Not one of them."

He took the bag from me, then picked up the second one, and the third, and the fourth.

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