Full Summary: The day Finley Elizabeth Hale was born, she was left on the side of the road to die. Then Derek saved her. She's not even human, which makes her fit in with the Hales just fine. But now, there's a problem. She's "dead." She has been for the past eight years. Derek's shady version of Witness Protection has her based in Australia with very, very, very distant cousins. Now there's an even bigger problem. She's back. Her presense forces Derek to be the father he vowed to be when he was only five years old. It brings a feud between werewolf and hunter to a simmering ash. It makes a retired veterinarian rethink his choices in life. It even brings love for a certain curly-haired werewolf. Of course, what's a little life story without some problems? The woman who burned her family alive, the one Finley vowed to exact her revenge on...Well, she's already dead. Right? Well, there's a reason some ghosts need to crossover...
"Who's that?"
"She's just someone in my family."
"Out in Australia, like your cousins?"
"No, she died a long time ago."
"In the Hale Fire?"
"Yeah, in the Hale Fire."
Derek doesn't know how many times he's lied about Her. He also doesn't know how many times he's thought about her. He's tried, really, to count the amount of times he thinks of her in the day. But he always got lost around the category of triple digits. The truth is he never stops thinking about her. She was always there, in his head, in his thoughts, in his memory. She was embedded into his flesh and his heart, never once leaving to be replaced by a scar. She was a large, open wound. She gaped, breathing in air, only getting worse.
She was Finley Hale and instead of having burned in that dreaded fire, like he claimed, she was well and alive. She was sitting in Australia, packing her bags. Where was she going? She'd like to think, "Home…"
"Who's that?"
"Who are you talking about?"
"That boy, the one in the picture."
"What about him?"
"You look at that picture all the time."
"It's a nice picture."
"Because he's in it. Who is he?"
"No one; he's dead."
"Oh…"
Finley doesn't know how many times she's had to lie about Him. She doesn't know how many times she's watched the full moon and wondered, "Is he okay?" She can never count how many times she's jumped at the sound of a phone ringing, hoping it's him. She hates being "dead." She hates it so much. But it's the only way I'm safe.
She boards a plane, her best friend waving from the window. She waves back and continues on her way. The whole flight, she wonders, "Can he feel my presence coming?" The whole flight, she knows she's done a terrible thing.
Because as of today, I'm not safe.