When we finally arrived at the Sunset pack, Jack and I stopped at the town nearest to the pack, a quaint little place that felt almost forgotten by time. I walked into one of the stores, a small, cluttered shop with knick-knacks and essentials, where the scent of old wood and faint perfume lingered in the air. After a few moments of browsing, I settled on a disposable phone, a lifeline to the world beyond our immediate troubles.
I dialed the number, my heart racing with anticipation, and it didn’t take long before someone answered it.
“Hello,” came the gruff voice of my father, a sound I had both yearned for and dreaded.
“Hi Dad,” I replied, my voice steady despite the chaos swirling in my mind.
“Amberly,” he said, shock evident in his tone, a mix of surprise and perhaps concern.
“How
