"I am not my father, Aunt Sheila." Maya repeated, a tear dropping from her right eye.
She had seen the instant look that had clouded Sheila's face when they had disengaged from the hug, a long haul from the happy look that had been on Sheila's face when she had noticed her for the first time. And of course, she had put two and two together, that Sheila as sharp as ever had picked up the murmurings of the people.
Well, she hadn't been surprised. She had known that the pack had been skeptical about the return of her and her family. She had also known that the pack didn't understand her uncle's affiliation with her family.
And she hadn't cared at first.
Yes, she hadn't cared to prove her loyalty to them. The only people she had cared about proving herself to was her immediate family, to Derek and to Eva, but not to the pack who was as fickle as anything fickle.
