Maisie
It all started with the question, "Tell us what you can about Maisie Adams," and I understood why Alden kept appealing to me to stay calm.
"We took her into our home, our pack," Luna Kaida cried, taking her sixth roll of tissues. "She was an orphan and we treated her like a daughter. All we ever asked was she earned her keep."
My nails dug into the wood.
Earn my keep.
Apparently scrubbing their floors, washing their clothes, serving their meals and spending half my childhood making myself useful so nobody remembered I was an extra mouth to feed had been their idea of raising a daughter.
Soren touched my wrist. Easy, he said with his touch to my erratic pulse.
"We overlooked her faults," Kaida continued, "and perhaps, if we hadn't, we wouldn't have lost so many at the attack. Dante and I, we tried, even when we saw how selfish she could be, how power hungry she was, coveting things that didn't belong to her, stealing them. She couldn't stand not being Luna.
