H A I L E Y
I decided to make her feel safe. To make her think she had won. I had a feeling that the more confident she became, the more careless she would be. So, I played my part.
The next day, I was at the community center, helping to organize the annual Harvest Festival. I was laughing, chatting, my every move designed to project an image of a Luna who was unbothered, secure in her position. And then, Yasmine walked in.
She was carrying a box of homemade jam, a bright, sunny smile on her face. "I hope I'm not intruding," she said, her voice soft and hesitant. "I just wanted to help. The Harvest Festival was always my favorite time of year."
The room went silent. All eyes were on me, on her. This was a test. My reaction would set the tone for the rest of the pack. I forced a smile,
