#Chapter 30: Return

Amelia The next morning, I threw myself into forum preparations like my life depended on it—because in some ways, it did. If David wanted to paint us as unstable, we were going to give him stability in full color. We weren’t just making a statement—we were building something that couldn’t be ignored. Pack leaders, community reps, younger voices who’d never had a seat at the table. I reached out to minor pack heads, especially the ones who had historically been excluded from summit affairs. I organized back-to-back video calls with frustrated regional leaders, translating their concerns into practical agenda points. I kept a running doc of every idea and question, every boundary we could push. "They’re actually listening?" Emma asked during one of our shared lunch breaks, which was really just us eating granola bars next to the printer. "Some of them," I said. "Some are waiting to see if it’s real." "Let’s make it real then." Emma took over logistics, hammering out bunking a