The following morning, she wrapped up her duties in the pack’s intelligence office, leaving her work neat and complete. Back home, she pulled out a box filled with photographs—snapshots of childhood with Evan and Raymond. School mischief. Their first shifts under the moon. Trips with both families, smiles wide and carefree. They had shared everything.
But that time was gone.
With a steady breath, she carried the photos to the old stone fireplace. One by one, she fed them to the flames. The paper curled, edges blackening before collapsing into ash.
She had just dropped the last photo when footsteps sounded behind her. Evan and Raymond froze in the doorway, eyes locking on the fire.
Evan strode forward, seizing her wrist. “What the hell are you doing?” His voice was sharp, disbelief etched across his face.
Raymond reached for a photo half-consumed by flame, only to yelp as the fire snapped at his hand, blistering the skin. His voice broke as he turned to her. “Why burn them, Lenora? Those were our memories.”
Calmly, she pulled her hand free of Evan’s grasp. “They’re the past,” she said evenly. “It’s time to move on.”