Hailee's POV
The whole house felt heavy.
Silent. Cold. Drowning in grief.
We were all gathered in the living room, the air thick with pain. My sons sat beside me—one on my left, one on my right, Oscar standing close in front of me as if he needed to guard me. They didn't talk. They didn't move much. Their presence just comforting me.
Peter stood near the entrance, speaking to elders and pack members who came to pay condolences. He kept his posture straight, his face calm, but I could see the truth in his eyes. My brother was breaking on the inside.
Mother sat on another couch, shaking with sobs. Two older women from the pack rubbed her back, trying to comfort her, whispering quiet prayers and words of strength. But nothing seemed to help. She kept crying, clutching the cloth on her lap like she was holding on to the last piece of her heart.
I just sat there.
Drained.
Empty.
