“When?” Gavin whispered.
“When did I ask for it?”
He nodded.
“Last summer while you both were gone. I know my son very well, perhaps better than anyone else. I knew, even though my heart was broken, that he’d find you. And if you had any sense in that head of yours, you’d listen to him.”
“More sense than him,” Gavin muttered. He handed me the photo. A young woman smiled up at me, standing in front of a card catalogue drawer. She was wearing jeans and a black shirt with a skull and crossbones on the front. She looked so young.
I handed it back to him. He looked at it again before setting it back on the desk. “I look like her?”
“A little bit,” Mom said. “Especially your eyes. You can see her in your eyes.”
“I like that.”
“I thought you might.” She took a deep breath and let it out slow. “I have two more gifts for you. And remember, you always have a choice. Whatever happens between you and—”
“Jesus Christ, Mom, we get it.”
“Oh, hush,” she said. “I saw that poor raccoon you slaughtered and brought to him at the full moon. You looked so proud of yourself.”
“Mom!”
“I ate it,” Gavin said solemnly. “All of it. Even the tail.”
“I saw,” Mom said, fighting back her laughter. “Carter was prancing around you.”
I groaned into my hands. “I wasn’t prancing.”
“Skipping, then. On four legs.”
“I’m leaving.”
“You’re staying right where you are.”
“Yeah,” Gavin said. “Stay there.”
“Fuck you both very much,” I muttered under my breath.
She said, “Gavin. Do you know why you’re still an Omega?”
I couldn’t speak. But she didn’t even look at me.
Gavin looked down at his hands. He shook his head, though it seemed forced.
Her voice was soft. “It’s not an admonition. I can’t imagine all that you’ve been through. Your life hasn’t been easy. Believe me when I say I know what that’s like. Maybe not the particulars, but our paths are more intertwined than even you may know. I’m not just speaking about Livingstones and Bennetts. Set that aside for a moment.” She smiled, and it was a quiet blue. “If you’re anything like me, you wonder sometimes how any of this could be real. It feels… too good, sometimes. Yes, we’ve known the limitless depths of grief. But we’re still standing. You can have this, if you want. This pack. These last two gifts are not meant to sway you one way or another. You are free, Gavin. I know it may not seem like it with all that’s hanging over us. But you are free. Do you understand?”
He nodded, shoulders stiff.
She reached into the drawer again. She pulled out an envelope. My mouth went dry. She set it on the desk before sliding it over to Gavin. On the front of the envelope, I could see three words written in a familiar hand.
FOR CARTER’S FUTURE
“Mom,” I croaked out. “Is that….”
“Yes,” she said. “It’s a letter your father wrote. And I thin
k he wrote it for Gavin.”