Olivia
I stepped out of Dianna Miller’s house that day with the scent of oil paints in my nostrils and a newfound sense of hope in my chest.
“Dianna,” I said as I stopped on her porch, “thank you so much for talking to me. And thank you again for donating those paintings to the auction; it’s going to make a world of difference.”
Dianna nodded, flashing me a warm smile. “I’ll admit that it was nice to have such a sweet young lady to talk to,” she said. “Most people who come by here just want to line their own pockets in some way or another; get a photo, ask me questions for their book, you name it. But you…”
“I just want what’s good for our pack,” I said. “We need the help of the Alpha association if we’re going to grow and rebuild after everything our pack has been through, and that’s
