Iris
Once we’re alone, I turn to Miles. He’s already back to being his usual smiley self, happily eating his sandwich and munching on his apple slices. The sight makes the ice around my heart melt just a little, and I ruffle his hair as I move past him.
I pour him a glass of milk, then one for myself just because, and take a seat next to him. He picks up the cup with both hands and takes a hearty chug before he returns to his sandwich.
“You sure you’re okay, little wolf?” I ask softly, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. “I’m sorry I left you with that mean lady. I won’t do it again.”
Miles shrugs. “It’s not your fault.”
I bite my lip, not feeling so sure about that. It sort of was my fault, in a way. Deep down, no matter how much I try to convince myself otherwis
