Rise of the Banished She-Wolf (Evelyn) novel Chapter 95

**Where Falling Leaves Whisper Stories Written In Silence by Ryn Jace Reed**

“Everything is all set, Mr. Hall,” she said, her voice calm yet purposeful, as she assisted me in guiding him toward the bedroom, her hands gentle but firm.

“Thank you, Mrs. Whitmore,” Devon replied, a flicker of genuine gratitude illuminating his features for a brief moment, as if he had just remembered something important.

Once I had ensured that Devon was comfortably settled in, I slipped away to take a quick shower, hoping the hot water would wash away the remnants of the day’s stress. When I returned, I was taken aback to find him perched on the couch, his fingers flying across the keyboard as he focused intently on his work.

“What on earth do you think you’re doing?” I exclaimed, striding over to him with purpose and shutting the laptop with a decisive click.

Devon had the decency to look a bit sheepish, his cheeks flushing slightly. “Just catching up on some emails,” he admitted, his voice lacking its usual bravado.

Before I could muster a response, my phone buzzed insistently, the screen lighting up with Lily’s name.

“Hey, Lily,” I greeted, stepping away from the chaos of Devon’s bed, needing a moment of normalcy.

“Evie! Where have you been? I’ve been trying to get in touch with you ever since I heard about the accident!” Her tone was laced with concern, and I could almost picture her pacing in agitation.

A wave of guilt washed over me. With all the turmoil that had unfolded, it had completely slipped my mind to return her call.

“I’m so sorry, Lily. Things have been… complicated,” I replied, my voice trailing off as I tried to find the right words.

“Are you okay?” The sincerity in her voice wrapped around me like a warm blanket, easing some of the tension in my chest.

“I’m fine,” I reassured her, though a part of me felt anything but. “Just busy with some unexpected medical cases.”

We chatted for a few minutes, the familiar rhythm of our conversation soothing my frayed nerves. I promised to meet her at our favorite coffee shop in a couple of days, a small light at the end of this chaotic tunnel. When I hung up, I noticed Devon watching me with an expression I couldn’t quite decipher.

“What?” I asked, suddenly feeling self-conscious under his gaze.

“Nothing,” he replied with a nonchalant shrug. “It’s just nice to see you have friends who care about you.”

I busied myself in the kitchen, preparing the herbal tea I had brought from the hospital. The fragrant aroma filled the room, a soothing balm that promised to neutralize any lingering silver in Devon’s system.

“Here,” I said, handing him the steaming mug, the heat radiating from it. “Drink this. It’ll help.”

Devon sniffed the concoction and grimaced. “It smells like wet dog.”

“Don’t be a baby,” I shot back, unable to suppress a smile. “It’s good for you.”

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