Chapter 8: The Song She Forgot

Junie sat on the edge of my cot and pulled her knees up.

"Do you remember when you stopped singing?" she said.

"I never stopped singing."

"You sang in the kitchen every morning of your life," Junie said.

"You sang while you cleaned your bow."

"You sang the whole way home from school, so loud Dad used to pull the truck over to listen."

I opened my mouth.

I tried to remember the last time I had sung.

I could not find it.

"It was the Gathering," Junie said. "The year you turned eighteen."

"You went off to meet Dalton by the fire."

"You came back with your eyes all smooth, like a lake with the wind gone out of it."

"Junie, that's not how it was."

"Mama saw it first," Junie said. "The next day she told me, 'Your sister has changed, and I don't know why.'"

"A week later she said, 'Look at her smile. It never changes. It doesn't move.'"

My hands were cold.

"I thought she was jealous," Junie said. "Everyone did. Dalton was so nice to us."

"He is nice."

"He's so nice," Junie said. "He gave me a phone for my birthday."

"The day before the ceremony, Mama sat me down at the kitchen table."

"She gave me one rule, about his hand. She made me say it back twice, the way you teach a little kid a road."

"That's all?"

"That's all she told me. I swear on my wolf." Junie's eyes were wet. "I called you thirty-nine times."

"Dalton's wolves locked me in my room and took my phone."

"I got out through the pantry and used the one on the kitchen wall."

"Locked you in."

"They said it was for my own safety."

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