Murmurs rippled through the crowd—wolves from allied and neighboring packs, all whispering about me. About the disgrace of the Redmoon Pack.
"She’s not my daughter anymore!" my father declared, voice full of venom. "After what she’s done, she deserves it! She deserves to die for killing Lily!"
I saw it then.
Marcus’s face flushed—not with anger, but with shame.
Not shame for me.
Shame for himself.
For defending me in front of others.
He wasn’t doing this for me. He was doing it to salvage his own reputation.
He never truly loved me.
Because if you love someone, you stand by them. You believe in them.
I thought Marcus knew me better than my own parents. But he didn’t.
No one did.
Slowly, I stepped forward.
I knelt before the empty casket.
A collective gasp rippled through the crowd.
Silence fell.
They were waiting.
Waiting for me to confess.
Gracie's POV
"Now that you're finally thinking straight, confess," my mother urged, hope trembling in her voice. "For Lily's sake." Her pain bled into every word, a mix of longing and grief.
Tears blurred my vision as I stared at Lily's framed picture resting atop the casket. I could almost hear her voice—soft, sweet, full of life.
"My pretty Aunt! Come play with your cute niece!"
Her laughter rang in my ears, a memory so vivid it felt real. I saw her bouncing onto my bed, giggling as she kissed my cheeks.
"Wake up, wake up! Let’s play!"
I used to wrap her in my arms, tickling her until she squealed, filling my room with happiness.
But now, all that was left was silence.
A hollow ache spread through my chest. My throat tightened, and before I knew it, I was sobbing.
“Tell us, Gracie,” my mother pleaded.
"Tell us now, Gracie," Anastasia echoed, desperation in her voice.
The pain inside me was unbearable. My fingers clutched at my chest as if I could physically hold myself together. My voice trembled.
"I'm sorry, Lily," I choked out.
I sobbed harder. "I'm sorry I couldn't protect you like I promised. I'm sorry I let you die. I failed you. I failed to give you justice."
“What are you saying? Just tell us the truth!” my mother snapped, her patience unraveling.
"I'm sorry..." My voice wavered. "Sorry that you're all blaming the wrong person. Sorry that—"
A sharp yank on my hair cut me off.
Anastasia.
Her fingers twisted in my hair, her rage seething through clenched teeth. "Sorry for what, Gracie? Just tell me where my child's body is! Stop lying!"