I should have been used to it by now. The lie. The secrecy. The weight of it pressing against my chest every single day.
But I wasn’t.
Every time I looked at my daughter—my son—I felt that pang of guilt. That ache of knowing she would grow up never knowing the truth about herself, at least not until she was old enough to understand why.
She was only a year old, and already, she was the most stubborn, fearless, fiery little pup I had ever seen.
She had her brothers wrapped around her tiny fingers.
Kyle, Keegan, Kendrick, and Kingsley—all of them adored their baby sibling. They would have fought wars for her without even knowing why she needed protecting.
The whole pack had embraced the lie. No one dared slip up. No one dared even think of referring to her as anything but him
