Page 73 of Haze

Finn will fit on it just fine.

It’s not a thought I should have, but it crosses my mind regardless.

“Essentials?” I question Dinah, leading her to my closet. “You mean the room you store your scrubs, evening gowns, and running gear?”

“Hey!” Dinah’s objection falls silent as her jaw drops, seeing my closet. “Okay, you’ve convinced me.” She walks around the space, looking at the custom built-ins for shoes, clothes, and jewelry. “Okay, yeah. I need one. But I resent the comment about scrubs, evening gowns, and running gear. I own normal-people clothes. Somewhere. I haven’t found that part of my life again.”

I don’t pry. I have a lot in my life that I don’t talk about too. Dinah suffered a huge loss. If what keeps her sane is running, working, and the occasional formal pack function, then so be it.

“Lena!” Dinah shouts.

I turn toward her from where I’m stripping off my dirty clothes. She’s pulling out a scrub top from where I’ve hung it next to a well-worn flannel I stole from Ansel’s closet.

She shakes her head. “This is mine.”

“What? Do you want it back?” I bite my lips together, remembering when I lifted it from her cabin.

Her nostrils flare. “Okay, so all these years, the boys have joked about how we behave. Now we know we’re actually sisters, and you’ve literally stolen my clothes. I’m fairly sure that’s the most stereotypical thing ever.” She shakes her head. “When did you even grab this?”

“Well, if you don’t know when, it clearly wasn’t missed,” I huff, tossing the dirty clothes into the washing machine. “I snagged it at Spring Equinox when you were getting clothes together for Thalia. Which, rude to not warn me you knew who she was.”

“You don’t like to know the future.” Dinah matches my sass.

I walk naked to the bathroom and turn on my towel warmer before grabbing my brush. Dinah trails behind me. If it were Thalia, I’d have tossed on a robe, but I mean, at this point, I’m not sure there’s an inch of me Dinah hasn’t seen.

“I respect you don’t want to talk about it. But I have to say this, and if after I do, you don’t want to talk about it for a long time, that’s fine.” Dinah is uncharacteristically nervous.

“About?” I look at her, playing dumb. It’s not hard to tell what’s eating Dinah alive.

“About how we’re sisters.” Dinah puts her hand on my shoulder, stopping me from brushing my hair.

I shrug her off with a shake of my head and continue brushing long strokes from scalp to end. “There’s nothing to talk about. It doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me.” Dinah knits her eyebrows together. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

After a few brush strokes, I answer with a question. “What would have happened, Dinah?”

Dinah doesn’t answer. She stands there looking at me.

It’s too intense. I turn away from her, looking in the mirror while I finish brushing out my hair. “Fuck, Deacon’s not related to Cade either, so there’s another one for the strange fucked up things in this family. But it wouldn’t have changed anything, Dinah.”

“It would have changed...” Dinah shakes her head. “Don’t you want to know why? Am I even related to Judah and Ezra?”

I set the brush down and turn around. Bracing myself with my arms on the counter, I look at her and see the sadness in her softened features. There’s no smile nor a sassy grin. Hollowness, I recognize from within myself, radiates from Dinah.

I nod, biting my tongue. “I haven’t run the test, but clearly, the boys who are still confusing people sometimes are genetically related, and they look a lot like Uncle Elliot, and let’s be real, if you hold up a picture of Aunt Alora next to you when she was your age...”

Dinah’s eyes are watering, and she blinks back tears. I stop talking because while I’ve had four years to process and put together the pieces, it doesn’t mean I can will Dinah’s pain away.

“I’m sorry,” Dinah says firmly. “It’s not fucking fair. I got Mom and Dad and the twins and a stable pack when I didn’t need it. You did.”

Ouch. I know she doesn’t mean anything by it, but the implication is that my wolf needs a pack to function. Submissives are weak on their own. They fall apart, which I’m sure is exactly what the fallout of my impulsive decision looks like. I don’t say anything.

I turn on the water for the shower, trying to come up with what I can tell her to make this easier. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but it doesn’t change our circumstances. To me, we’re no more sisters than we were yesterday. I probably should update my lineage card with the—”

“I need to know why.” Dinah cuts me off. “Did you ask Mom and Dad when you found out? Or did you...” She fishes her phone out of her pocket and flips through screens.

I know what she’s doing. Seconds later, she has the phone picture pulled up of her and her parents. They’re smiling, arms wrapped around each other.

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