“The danger is real,” I say quietly, my fingers subconsciously drifting to the scar on my neck, hidden beneath the high collar of my shirt. “But for some of us, the danger of staying was higher.”
Josie leans in, her eyes fixed on mine. “And the packs? The ones who help? Do they understand what they’re signing up for? To knowingly participate in a bond violation?”
I remember Luther staying close enough that I could feel the heat of him without being crowded, Grayson pressing a cool cloth to the back of my neck, Blake stopping every conversation that treated me like I wasn’t in the room, and Maceo reading each form aloud before I signed it.
“They knew,” I say. “They supported me through all of it. None of them cared more about the rule than they cared about getting me out.”
Josie’s gaze doesn’t waver. “To have that kind of support... did it make the pain easier to bear?”
“No,” I say. My fingers settle over the scar beneath my collar. “It hurt more than I knew anything could hurt. But when it was over, the bond was gone.”
Josie looks down at her wrist and rubs her thumb across the skin once. The movement is small enough that I might have missed it if she hadn’t gone so quiet.
“Are you in trouble?” I ask.
Her head lifts quickly. “No.”
The answer comes too fast, but the fear behind it feels familiar. I’ve heard the same refusal from Omegas sitting on the other side of the intake desk, even when the bruises were still visible.
I keep my voice gentle. “You don’t have to tell me anything. I only need to know whether someone can reach you here.”
Josie glances toward the open breakroom door before shaking her head. “No one is coming after me. I worked with someone once who considered having her bite removed. She never went through with it, but I remember how afraid she was of what might happen if she did.”
Her thumb moves across her wrist again before she curls her fingers around her mug.
“I’m sorry,” she says. “I shouldn’t have made this personal.”
“Most people don’t choose this work because none of it is personal.”
Some of the tension leaves her shoulders, though she still doesn’t look entirely comfortable. I don’t press. If there is more behind the question, she can share it when she decides she is ready.
I stand and collect both mugs. “Come with me. There are a few people I’d like you to meet before we finish the training files.”
Josie follows me from the breakroom, leaving her messenger bag in the locked training office where Blossom told her to keep it. Her temporary badge still limits her to the staff areas, so I open each secured door and remain beside her as we move through the house.
Maya is in the sunroom watering the herbs she planted along the windows. She arrived six months ago without speaking to anyone unless she absolutely had to. Now she manages the greenhouse schedule and has started taking evening classes through the community college.
She looks up when we enter, her attention moving from me to Josie.
“You saw Josie in the garden earlier this week,” I tell Maya. “She’s training with us, and I thought the two of you could meet properly.”
Josie stays near the doorway instead of approaching. “It’s nice to meet you.”
Maya studies her for a moment before pointing toward the tray beside the basil. “Those need water, but not too much.”
Josie waits until Maya nods toward the spare watering can before picking it up. I remain with them while Maya explains which plants belong to which residents and why one of the mint pots has been moved away from the others.
From there, I take Josie to the sewing room, where two Omegas are repairing donated clothes for the next group of arrivals. Blossom joins us before we enter, carrying the rest of Josie’s orientation forms beneath one arm. She makesthe introductions while I explain how residents can volunteer around the house without the work becoming a condition of staying.
Josie listens more than she speaks. She waits for each Omega to choose whether to answer her questions, and when one of them changes the subject, she follows without trying to pull the conversation back.
By the time we return to the training office, the guarded look has faded from her face. Blossom settles beside her with the second practice file while I take the chair across from them.
Josie opens the folder but pauses before reading. “The women we met today seemed happy.”
“Some days,” I say. “Other days are harder. Being safe doesn’t fix everything at once.”
She nods and looks down at the first page. “But they get the chance to become something besides what happened to them.”
