Page 67

CHAPTER 66

MY HEARTBEAT POUNDS like a drum in my ears. The woman who raised us is a lost child, too.

Wendy’s gripping the sides of her metal chair and trembling. Her head starts shaking back and forth, faster and faster. “No,” she says, “no no no.” She looks like she’s about to have a fit.

“Wendy,” I say, moving toward her. “Wendy, can you hear me? Wendy, it’s okay.”

But she can’t answer me, because she’s starting to hyperventilate. Dunham looks worried; Rollins watches her like this is just another normal Thursday morning. When Officer Randall shows up with the coffee, he tries to offer her some, but she’s shuddering so hard she knocks it right out of his hand. The cup goes spinning into the corner. A puddle spreads slowly across the floor.

I’ve never seen Wendy like this—never seen her so helpless—and it terrifies me. It tears my heart in two. I try to put my arms around her but Dunham stops me. Pulls me back.

“Give her space,” he says. “Let her work through this.”

“You did this to her!” I yell.

I know this isn’t really true, but I have to blame someone for the way she’s crumbling before my eyes. Didn’t he stop to consider how this information would affect her? Did he honestly think she’d take this earth-shattering revelation in stride?

Randall says, “Should I call Dr. Meyer?”

No, not that old piece of driftwood!

“There’s nothing life-threatening about a panic attack,” Rollins says condescendingly.

Before anyone can stop him, Holo slips off his chair and curls up around Wendy’s feet—the way Beast sometimes would. The alpha female could always tell when we were sad or hurt, and she understood how to comfort us. Because we were family .

My throat tightens and my eyes start to sting. Suddenly I can’t breathe through my nose.

“You’re lying to me,” Wendy gasps.

“No, that’s what he did,” Dunham says. “Every single day of your life.”