Standing in the alley, the tension between Karl and me is almost palpable, like a living, breathing entity that neither of us can ignore. His eyes search mine, as if trying to excavate the truth from deep within me.
“Is it true, Abby? Your wolf is—”
I cut him off, not wanting to delve into that cavern of pain right now. “Forget it,” I say, turning away.
There’s a beat of silence as we both grapple with our feelings. I thought that Karl somehow knew about the fact that my wolf has been in a coma all this time, but it seems as though he has no idea. I can’t decide if it makes it hurt worse or less.
“Abby, why didn’t you tell me?” he asks gently.
I can feel his fingers brush my arm. It’s a comfort for the briefest of moments, but I’m still angry, still hearing Chloe’s word
