#Chapter 11: Fractures

Amelia I froze. Not even Adam had remembered. Not a text. Not a “happy birthday.” Nothing. And sure, it had been a few weeks ago now, but still—no one had acknowledged it. Not until Richard. I hadn’t even remembered until now. I’d been running nonstop—school, work, trying to keep up appearances—and the truth was, passing another birthday without a wolf only made it feel more certain: I’d probably be wolfless forever. It wasn’t exactly the kind of thing I wanted to celebrate. But here I was, holding a small, perfectly wrapped box from Richard. It was matte black with a satin ribbon tied cleanly across the top, the kind of packaging that made you feel like whatever was inside had to be special. Heavy in my hands—intentional. “I—” I started, hesitating. There was a strange flicker of guilt behind my ribs, like I didn’t deserve kindness today. Like receiving this meant accepting that someone had seen me. “Open it,” Richard said, his tone gentle but firm. I did. Inside was a