Page 29 of Pack End Game

Zak leans over Freddie, puts his hand on my knee, and speaks quietly. "I can't stop thinking about her face when she looked at the nest."

Neither can I.

That look will haunt me for the rest of my life if I don't find a way to make things right for Mia.

"I hate the house."

Those words keep echoing in my mind. Telling me I'm a failure. I struggle not to carry the weight of the world on my shoulders sometimes, which is the whole reason I do therapy twice a month in the first place.

That reminds me to glare at Freddie again. He deserves all the glares for the breach of privacy he admitted to tonight. He's not the least bit fazed by my disappointment, though.

Instead, he looks lost deep in thought. I'm surprised to see him look like he's concentrating for so many consecutive seconds. His attention span usually bounces approximately every fifteen seconds. We're up to at least thirty as I watch him pretend to stroke a nonexistent beard.

"I have an idea," Freddie announces finally, plenty loud enough for Mia to hear him from the bathroom.

Zak and I both shush him at the same time.

He rolls his eyes at us both, completely undeterred.

"The answer is so obvious," he continues.

"It is?" I raise my eyebrows since the answer is not obvious to me.

His pout disappears, and he crosses his arms behind his head with an annoyingly confident smile. He looks every bit the cat that got the canary, and I just wish he would spit his idea out already so that Zak and I can talk some sense into him before Mia walks out and hears whatever nonsense idea he's come up with.

"Are you going to tell us?" Zak asks, a tinge of annoyance and impatient in his voice.

"Obviously, we're going to move," Freddie says. "Duh."

My jaw drops as I stare at him for a moment before making eye contact with Zak. Freddie has been more in love with the house than any of us since first moving in, and now he's so nonchalantly suggesting we abandon ship and simply... move? He can't possibly be serious.

Chapter Fifteen

Freddie

Spencer and Zak stare at me like I’ve lost my mind. This is pretty much the same way they always look at me, so as usual, I don’t let it faze me.

I shrug because, honestly, I don’t see what the big deal is. Moving is clearly the only path forward for us as a pack and a very easy solution. “What?” I ask, spreading my hands like this choice is the most obvious thing in the world, because it is. “She hates the house. So the house has to go.”

Zak’s eyes narrow like he’s trying to figure out if I’m joking or mean for the suggestion to be ridiculous, but he doesn’t say anything.

I’m not joking.

And while on occasion, I have dabbled in the universe of ridiculosity, I am clear-headed as can be now.

Silence.

I don’t like the lack of immediate agreement, but I can’t throw the water on them. I have to lead their goats there first. Or is it that the horses lead the goats, and the chickens can’t force them to drink the water?

Whatever, they’ll figure out I’m right soon enough.

Spencer’s jaw tightens with frustration. That house is the first one we shared as a pack after years of apartments and townhomes. We waited for the best lot in the most secure gated community to become available. Then he and Zak sat through an obnoxious number of meetings with builders and contractors. Occasionally, they’d ask for my input, but really, I just need them.

And now, Mia.

In my head, this is simple math. Mia, plus her hate for our home, equals we buy a new house… Or build another one.

Problem solved. People make you believe that adulting is super hard all your life, but it’s really just them standing in their own way of the obvious. Plus, I guess money likely contributes to that hardship.