Page 131 of The Forgotten

“Yes!” I squeal. “That was amazing. Thank you so much.”

“I just nudged,” Aisling says. “You’re going to do all the heavy lifting when you go to the interview.”

My mind tries to remember if I have any interview appropriate clothing since most of my boxes are with my car, but I come up empty.

“Use the closet in the shelter,” Aisling says, smirking. “I swear, you’re the worst at accepting things that are already yours. You don’t even have to ask, that’s why we have them set up.”

“I really am,” I mumble, standing. “I’ll go check it out. I’m sure I’ll find something.”

I’m on the shorter side, so pants might be out. I can probably find a nice dress to wear though.

I almost run into someone at the door as I run though hypothetical options and start. My gaze flies up to see that I’m standing in front of Jasper’s sister and I awkwardly smile apologetically. She’s never met me before, but I can see the similarities between them.

“Sorry, Wren,” I murmur, trying to move around her.

“How do you know who I am?” she asks, turning as she watches me.

“I know Jasper,” I say with a small shrug.

“He’s not supposed to know she’s here, Wren,” Aisling says, following me.

“I wouldn’t mention it either way,” Wren says. “If he’s giving you a hard time, I’m sure Shaw would enjoy beating him up for giggles.”

I remember the name because that’s where Aisling said she got my heat suppressants. It makes sense that this is how she knows Shaw.

“It’s complicated,” I mumble. “Jasper and my brother are difficult. They’ve been running together for years, and enjoying being the thorns in my side. I’m hiding from them. I don’t want to hear their bullshit about how I chose the worst time to stick up for myself.”

“Jasper is a hot head and can hardly talk,” Wren says, rolling her eyes. “He likes to get his own way. Hide as long as you’d like. The offer is still on the table to have Jasper beaten for shits and giggles.”

She’s not at all like what I thought she’d be.

“Thanks,” I chuckle. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Waving goodbye, I walk back to the shelter area and open the closet that’s filled with interview clothing. Inside, I find a long sleeved deep navy blue dress that’ll look nice against my red hair. Pulling it from the closet, I also find a pair of pumps that’ll work with it.

“That’s really cute together,” Megan says, getting my attention as I turn.

Her son is on her hip, watching with the intelligence of a child older than two and a half.

“Thanks, I have an interview tomorrow,” I say. “I want to make sure I nail it.”

“I bet you will,” she says. “I have a really good feeling. Ready for your snack, Benji?”

“Mmm. Yes, Mama,” he says enthusiastically, making me grin.

God, I love kids. I don’t get to hang out with them often, but seeing Benji around makes me realize how much I love them. Every experience is new and exciting, everything is an opportunity and adventure to learn.

Pushing away the yearning in my heart, I struggle not to let my smile wobble as I close the closet door.

“Enjoy,” I murmur, walking back to my room. Breathing gets harder and harder, even after I shut the door behind me.

Tossing the dress and shoes onto the bed, I slide down the door until I’m sitting on my ass. I’m not as sore anymore, but certain movements make me remember what happened to me. Instead of feeling angry, it makes me sad.

Did none of them realize what they were doing to their scent match?

I still can’t pull apart the different scents to attach them to the alpha it belongs to, no matter how much I try. It’s something my mind enjoys torturing me with ad nauseum. Dropping my head back onto the door with a thud, I struggle to control my breathing.

Instead of relaxing to accept oxygen, my lungs seem to tighten up until I’m wheezing.