Chapter 7: Terms

I walked into Kincannon Hall for the first time in five years, with a child on each hand and one on my hip.

My daughter held my left hand and kept her chin up.

My older son held my right, and his small warm fingers were tight around mine.

My younger son rode my hip, chewing on the ear of his stuffed owl.

The three Kincannon brothers walked a step behind us, and they didn't speak.

The long table was gone from the hall.

In its place the whole pack stood in rows, three hundred wolves in their best clothes.

Hugh waited at the far end on the raised floor, silver-haired and smiling.

I knew many of the faces.

I saw the woman who ran the bakery and the man who taught the youth runs.

The doctor stood very straight near the front, and she did not look at me.

All of them had heard my banishment sung.

None of them had said a word against it.

"Sorrel Linwood," Hugh said warmly, and his voice carried to the back wall.

"You've come home. And you've brought my grandchildren."

"I've brought my children."

A ripple went through the crowd.

"Of course," Hugh said. "Our family is delighted to have you."

"You'll want to hear my terms before you say that."

"Terms?"

"I'm not here to stay." I kept my voice level. "I'm here for my mother."

"You said she's alive, and you're going to show me."

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