Page 27 of Wild Sanctuary

“Finally,” she sighs. “Girl time.”

Maggie grabs the wine bottle and refills everyone’s glasses, and without the chaos of dinner and the muddy entrance, I finally get a proper look at her. She’s just as tall as I remember, with her mother’s dark hair escaping its pins, and navy-blue eyes already gleaming with mischief. “I thought they’d never leave.”

“You could have just asked them to go,” I point out.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Maggie settles back in her chair, cradling her wine. “So. Was dinner as chaotic as you remembered?”

I laugh. “Worse, actually. In the best way.”

“When was the last time you were here for Sunday dinner?” June asks as she tops up my glass.

“That Christmas when I was twenty, I think? Right before I started interning. So… six years ago?”

“God, that long?” Maggie shakes her head before a broad smile spreads across her face. “I remember that Christmas. You wore that beautiful red dress and looked so grown up. We couldn’t believe little Daisy was about to graduate college.”

My cheeks warm at the memory of that Christmas.

Of trying too hard and being too obvious and watching Wyatt walk out the door without a backward glance.

“I was insufferable,” I deflect. “Convinced I was going to change the world with investigative journalism.”

“You were passionate,” she corrects gently. “It was sweet.”

Six years is a long time.

I’d told myself it was just life getting busy—internships, finishing my degree, the job in Denver. Dad understood. He drove out to see me instead, twice a year like clockwork, never once asking why I wouldn’t visit anymore.

But the truth was simpler and a whole lot more pathetic: I couldn’t face sitting across from Wyatt, knowing he saw nothing when he looked at me. It was easier to stay away and pretend Montana didn’t exist.

And then Dad died, and coming back felt impossible for entirely different reasons. The grief I carried. The guilt of every visit I’d skipped, and every dinner I’d missed.

All that time I wasted being proud, instead of being present.

But sitting here now, wine in hand, surrounded by people who knew me when I was young and hopeful and probably annoying—it doesn’t feel impossible at all.

It feels like coming home.

Like I never should’ve stayed away this long.

June tops up my glass, leans forward on her elbows, and I’m struck, not for the first time tonight, by how much she’s grown into herself.

She was always pretty, but at twenty-four, she’s striking. Pale blonde hair caught up in a loose ponytail, green eyes bright with genuine warmth, and dimples that appear when her mouth curves into a smile that makes you feel like the most important person in the room.

“So.” She smiles, making those dimples pop. “Tell us all about Denver, honey. We want to know everything.”

“Everything?”

“Everything.” Maggie grins as she wiggles her eyebrows. “Starting with this ex situation. Don’t think I didn’t clock that at dinner.”

“Marketing for a tech startup, right?” June chimes in. “I caught that part when Colt was interrogating you.”

I nod as I take a sip of wine, grateful for the chance to get this out of the way without Wyatt’s presence.

Maggie raises an eyebrow over her wine glass. “And this friend thing? That’s code for friends-with-benefits, right?”

“What? No.” I almost choke on my wine. “Trust me, it’s a tactical decision.”

She frowns as she flourishes her wine glass. “Tactical how?”