The supply closet smells like bleach and broken promises I keep making to myself.

I crouch between industrial mops and cleaning chemicals, Elena’s phone pressed against my ear like a lifeline. The screen glows blue in the darkness, illuminating my trembling fingers as I wait for Ricky to answer.

Three rings stretch into eternity before her voice cuts through the static.

“Hello?” Confusion threads through the familiar warmth. “Who is this?”

“It’s me.” The words crack on my tongue like thin glass. “Ricky, it’s Morgan.”

“Morgan?” Relief floods her voice, followed immediately by concern. “Oh my God, where have you been? I’ve been worried sick about you for weeks.”

“I know, and I’m so sorry.” I press my forehead against the cool metal shelving. “Things got complicated, and I couldn’t reach out until now.”

“Complicated how?” Her tone sharpens with the protective edge I’ve missed desperately. “Talk to me, girl.”

Hearing her voice cracks open everything I’ve been holding together with wire and will. The dam breaks without warning, and tears spill down my cheeks in hot streams.

Ricky has always had this effect on me, the ability to dissolve my carefully constructed walls with nothing but genuine concern in her voice.

“Hey, hey, hey.” Ricky’s voice softens instantly. “Morgan, what’s happening? Are you safe right now?”

“I don’t know how to answer that question.” A sob escapes before I can trap it. “Safe from what? There’s so much.”

“Do you need me to come get you?” The offer comes without hesitation. “Just tell me where you are, and I’ll be there.”

That’s Ricky in a nutshell, ready to drive into the unknown at two in the morning for a friend who can’t even explain why she needs rescuing.

The questions remind me of my old dream, the one I used to nurture in the darkest hours of my Silver Moon captivity. Escape, freedom, a life without pack politics and impossible loves.

I could still run if I wanted to.

Disappear into the human world with nothing but the clothes on my back. Leave Paul and Zane and Sarah’s threats behind like a snake shedding damaged skin.

“What’s happening to you?” Ricky presses gently. “You sound like you haven’t slept in days.”

“I haven’t, not really.” I wipe my face with the back of my hand. “Everything is so complicated, and I’m just so tired, Ricky.”

“Then leave.” Her response is gentle but firm as steel beneath silk. “Whatever’s keeping you there, it can’t be worth your sanity.”

“It’s not that simple,” I whisper, my voice barely audible. “I wish it were that simple.”

“Why not?” Frustration bleeds through her concern now. “You’ve always talked about getting out of that situation. What’s changed?”

Paul’s face surfaces in my mind, pale eyes burning with possessive hunger in the darkness. His hands on my body, his mouth claiming mine, his voice promising protection I want to believe he can deliver.

Running would mean looking over my shoulder forever, waiting for the day he found me.

And despite everything, despite the secrecy and the complications, my wolf howls at the thought of being separated from him. The sound echoes through my hollow chest like mourning.

“There’s someone,” I admit, hating how the confession sounds. “Someone I can’t walk away from, even when I probably should.”

“A man?” Ricky’s voice turns carefully neutral. “Is he why you’re crying in what sounds like a storage room?”

“Partly.” I laugh, and the sound comes out bitter and broken. “He’s part of why everything is so messy.”

“Morgan, listen to me very carefully.” Her tone shifts into the serious register she reserves for important conversations. “No man is worth your tears, your sleep, or your peace of mind.”

I picture her now, pacing her cramped apartment with its thrift-store furniture and walls covered in postcards from places she plans to visit someday. Ricky who dropped out of nursing school to care for her sick grandmother, who works double shifts at the café to pay rent, who still finds time to worry about me.

“Good.” She clears her throat. “Now, is there anything else you need from me tonight?”

“Just hearing your voice was enough.” I wipe fresh tears from my cheeks. “I should go before someone finds me hiding in here.”

“Call me again soon,” she demands softly. “Don’t disappear on me for another month.”

“I won’t,” I promise, already dreading the moment I end this call. “I love you, Ricky.”

“Love you too, weirdo.” The familiar endearment settles warm in my chest. “Take care of yourself.”

The line goes dead, and I sit in darkness among the cleaning supplies, weighing impossible options that have no correct answers.

My body bears Paul’s marks, purple and possessive against pale skin. My lips still tingle from Zane’s kiss, the ghost of his gentleness haunting me. My cousin wants me dead, and she has the power to make it happen.

And somewhere in the chaos of being wanted by two brothers and hated by everyone else, I’ve lost track of who I am outside of other people’s desires.

Who was I before Paul’s hunger consumed me?

Who was I before Zane’s kindness confused me?

Who was I before Sarah’s cruelty defined me?

The questions echo through the darkness without answers, bouncing off metal shelves and concrete walls. I press my palm against my chest, feeling my heart pound beneath flesh and bone.

I’ve become a woman shaped entirely by other people’s hands, molded by their expectations and desires until nothing original remains. A mirror reflecting whatever others want to see.

I don’t know anymore.