“She has what?” My mom asked, astonished.
“She has the same mark Apolo and I have, but it’s on her other paw,” I explained again.
“And you didn’t have that mark before?” my mom asked Jennifer now.
“No, ma’am, I didn’t,” she repeated.
My mom has asked this question at least three times, and I am beginning to worry.
“And your mark looks like a tattoo…” she trailed off and looked at our marks.
They were beautiful, but my mom was right. They didn’t look like a normal mark. Not even my mom’s looked like that; hers was already unique.
My mom’s and dad’s marks were two wolves howling at the moon with two crowns over their heads. They were two shades darker than their skin color, which was a beautiful mark for me.
Jen’s and mine were even prettier.
“May I ask what’s so weird abou
