Thirty-One

For a while, Leah had forgotten that she had a place of her own—ever since the night of the raid, she had been living rent-free in Jacob's apartment and her mother's house. Both homes were more welcoming, but Leah decided she should return to her own home once and for all.

A part of her wished she hadn't.

Sitting crossed-legged on her living room floor with a glass of cheap red wine in her hand, Leah was starting to wonder if Jacob had been right about this place—it did feel stale, more like a hotel and storage room rather than a home. It shouldn't be this way; Leah had been the one to pick the apartment. The neighborhood was decent; the rent wasn't too bad for a spacious one-bedroom… but she didn't want to be here.

Unfortunately, there wasn't much she could do now. She couldn't prematurely opt out of the lease while Sam was working undercover. She didn't want to spend the extra money and was pretty sure the move wouldn't bode well for her during the eventual divorce proceedings.

Leah cursed under her breath.

She needed that man back in her life so she could move the fuck on.

Emily wouldn't let Leah be.

She had stopped by the apartment a few times. Her scent still lingered around the front door—Two times, Emily had visited while Leah was home. She didn't answer the door. Or the phone calls. Or the text messages like the ones she received today—Nothing too important, just the usual BS, Emily-style. Leah, how are you? I hope we can meet up soon. And Leah's personal favorite: Hope you can forgive me. I truly didn't mean anything of this to happen.

"She wants to torture me," Leah told Aisha that night. "There's no other explanation. Why can't she just leave me the hell alone?"

"Get a restraining order," Aisha suggested. "That'll shut up her up."

It would.

But Leah never did get around to requesting a restraining order.

Emily had been quiet during the past few days. No calls, no text messages, no ill-advised visit to her baby daddy's apartment. Leah was starting to believe that Emily had finally gotten the point… until Emily reached out again.

It was a call that turned into a voice mail—Leah had a feeling her cousin wanted an update on Sam's status and another chance to apologize. She didn't call Emily back; if she genuinely wanted to make amends, she should've put in more effort. If he wanted to, Sam could talk to her. He had Emily's number.

One more time, Leah vowed to herself. Just one more time.

"If you don't do anything about that woman soon, I'll going to request that goddamn order myself," Aisha would threaten over the phone. "Don't think I won't do it."

Leah didn't dare to. "Don't worry about it," she said. "I'll deal with her."

On Day Seven, Leah asked her mother over lunch about her knowledge of the supernatural's existence.

"I've heard stories from relatives about it. It's genetic, apparently, found on all over the world," Sue explained. "Your father had a cousin who swore up and down that he was a wolf. Personally, I've never seen it. He was pretty about it for a good reason." She shrugged. "He could've been losing his mind, but who was I to question another's experience? I've been through too much to do so."

Leah took a long sip of her tea as she digested her mother's words. Sue's comment was news to her. "So, you're fine with this?"

Sue sent her eldest an incredulous look as if offended that Leah had to even ask such a question. "Why wouldn't I be?" she questioned. "Yes, this an… adjustment, but what am I going to do? Ostracize you? Report you the authorities so they can turn you into an experiment?" She shook her head. "Never. Admittedly, I was stunned when Jacob told me the news. I never thought he'd bite you to save your life…"

"Me, too," Leah muttered under her breath.

Sue took her daughter's hands into hers. "The important thing is that you're alive and well," she said. "Everything else can fall by the wayside."

Leah batted away the tears forming in her eyes; she wasn't entirely successful. "I love you, mom," she said, voice cracking.

Sue gave a warm smile. "As do I."

"Three from the Volturi have been arrested, four from the Olympic coven, two from Victoria's crew and only from the Velasquez Cartel," Jacob read to Leah over dinner. He had a fork in one hand and a report in another. "Now the dead: Santiago and Alec from the Volturi, one from the Denalis, a couple of newborns from Victoria's army and two Children of the Moon… Three COMs' whereabouts are unknown."

Leah raised both eyebrows before taking a bite of her pasta. She was still on forced sick leave, but Jacob had been wonderful enough to keep her in the loop. He would stop by right after work, usually with dinner. "Santiago was Felix's number two," she said. "And Alec, he was Jane's brother—" She cleared her throat. "Was that our fault?"

"Alec?" Jacob shook his head. "No, he was killed in the first shootout."

Leah sighed in relief. Jane might not be the most sentimental person in the world, but everyone knew how close she had been to her brother. He was the only family left, and Leah had a sinking feeling that Jane was going to retaliate—Thankfully, the Chicago Police Department was in the clear.

Leah's increase in appetite was starting to scare her. So, in a moment of desperation for anything red-meat, she went to the only place where she could order mounds of beef not get judged for it: Quil's.

"You are a godsend," she told the bar owner, rubbing her stomach in anticipation for her next meal. It was the middle of the afternoon, after lunch and before Happy Hour. She had just returned from her, attempting to go to work, only to be dragged out back by a very exasperated Jacob moments later. "Can you believe what so-called partner did earlier?"

Quil chuckled. "It's better than getting lectured by Paul," he said, adding a shudder as he set a plate of raw steaks and a bottle of A1 sauce in front of the detective. "He can be worse than Jacob."

Leah snorted as she doused the delicious pile of delicious with the steak sauce (she still had to get used to the taste of raw meat). She cut off a piece and remarked, "Now, I find that hard to believe."

She finally took a bite and loudly moaned at the taste, causing Quil to laugh. It took a lot of self-control for Leah not to devour the whole plate of steaks in one gulp. As Leah moved on to the second piece, she asked Quil, "Hey, Quil, do you know Dr. Kim Lopez?" and then added, "The vet."

Quil nodded. "Of course," he said, moving to clean off the bar table. His employees were out and about, preparing ready for the upcoming Happy Hour. "Very understanding. Heard it all, seen it all—" He grinned. "We grew up together."

Leah was relieved to hear it. She was scheduled to meet up with the veterinarian the following morning before regular operating hours. The appointment was a last-minute one, made by Jacob, while Leah had been unconscious. Apparently, going to a normal physician was out of the question.

She wasn't looking forward to it.

Mostly because she was seeing a goddamn veterinarian.

Despite what she had in her, she was still a person. People saw general physicians in doctor's offices, away from animals.

Her opinion, though, did turn a 180 when she finally met the doctor (this time being fully conscious). The woman seemed nice enough, and Leah didn't even have to explain what happened during the past several days. It made the appointment so much more bearable.

"How are you feeling?" Dr. Lopez asked. No, Kim—Leah had to remember; the vet has insisted on being called by her first name. Because you're basically a part of this strange family, she had said.

"For one, I'm not passed out on my partner's bed this time," Leah said, adding a scoff, and then carried on, "Much better, but I still have no clue about what's going on…" she trailed off into a sigh. "I'll catch on, though. I always do."

Kim nodded as she fetched the clipboard; attached to it was Leah's medical history. "Good to hear. Glad to see you awake," she said, adding with a chuckle, "Do you know how many times I had to convince Jacob that no, you weren't in a coma?"

Leah shook her head fondly. She could definitely see the man doing that. "Thank you for everything," she said. "Embry told me you've been keeping track of my vitals while I was dead to the world."

"Not a problem. This isn't my first rodeo."

"So, are you essentially my primary doctor?"

"If you want me to be," Kim said, hopeful. "But in ether way, your primary doctor will have to be a veterinarian. I fear your general physician may admit you to the hospital after taking your temperature… not exactly what you want to deal with right now."

Leah cocked her head to the side. "I can never go to the hospital?"

"You can, eventually, not certainly not now. First, your body needs to get acclimated; it's still going through a lot of changes. Now once your body calms down, your body temperature will decrease somewhat. High enough to be seen as a viewed, but low enough for you to go hospital without them taking matters to another, unnecessary level."

Leah nodded, slowly understanding. "Well, I guess I'm going to have to get used to this," she said. "It's not like I have any other choice—What about my gynecologist?"

"You don't have to switch gynecologists. Oh, and please keep up with your breast exams. Contrary to what you compatriots want to believe, shapeshifters are not immune to all diseases."

"I can't believe I came back from the dead…"

"You technically didn't die," Kim pointed out, setting aside the clipboard. "Hence why you're experiencing all of these unpleasant symptoms. If you, for example, were a vampire, the transformation from being a human wouldn't be so… lengthy. Just as painful, I've been told, but it wouldn't take weeks."

Leah dropped her face into her hands and groaned.

This was going to take weeks.

Kim's expression was sympathetic. "I know what's not what you want to hear. And I know you want to return to work, but it's wise that you're waiting. You have to get used to the surroundings, and ultimately yourself. Like I said, you're not a vampire—When you're a vampire, you're only that. There's only one side to you: the undead. However, when you're a shapeshifter, you're juggling two sides. And both have to get along."

Leah swallowed. "And if they don't?"

"Your life will become a living Hell," Kim said truthfully. "There's a reason why not everyone survives the bite. That's why alphas take it so seriously."

"Then why did I…?"

"Survive," Kim finished. "I can't exactly give you a reason. As you can imagine, there aren't many studies focused on the transformation from a human to a supernatural being. But the fact that you didn't resist too much helped, I believe. Going with the flow does wonders to your stress levels, significantly reducing the chances of a stress-induced heart attack."

Leah brought a hand to her mouth and gasped as the realization dawned on her. "I passed out all of those times due to shock."

"More or less," Kim said, and then with a clap, "Okay, let's check your vitals." Once she checked out her patient's blood pressure and temperature, she directed Leah to lie back in the reclining chair. "I'd like to check out the wound that started it all."

Leah nodded and lifted her shirt, revealing her lower torso. "How… how is it all gone?"

Kim examined the area. "If the bite doesn't kill you, it speeds up the healing process exponentially," she explained. "Plus, whoever shot you used standard bullets, you wouldn't have reacted it, much…" she trailed off, smoothing a hand along the wound. "I took the bullets out that night, so you don't have to worry about foreign objects causing havoc to your body."

Leah swallowed again. "Thank you."

"It's my job," Kim said with a smile. "But you're welcome."

Leah matched the vet's grin.

"Jacob told me you're a vegetarian?" Kim said, directing her patient to sit up in the chair.

"Plus, fish."

"A pescatarian, then. By choice?"

Leah shook her head. "I had a terrible bout of food poisoning."

Kim grimaced. "I don't blame you for abandoning land animals. Food poisoning is the worst." She then sighed. "It's probably not the best idea to continue with that lifestyle. Wolves like meat."

Leah nodded. Oh, didn't she know that. The taste of Quil's steaks still lingered in her mouth. "Got any more advice?"

"Don't fight the change," Kim suggested. "I'm not one of you, but I've been around enough shapeshifters that doing so never ends well. You're different now, but you're still you. You're still Leah Uley—Remember that."

Leah was not in the mood to exercise.

Not because she didn't like it. Actually, it was usually the complete opposite. Work-outs tended to clear her mind, make her forget about her troubles for that small window of time (and help her justification for consuming wine and sweets). But she had practically been forced into house arrest for the last week and a half—she could only imagine how her body would feel once she put her muscles to work.

And the shin splints—oh, how much she hated them.

But Leah was willing to endure the pain this morning. At 8:00 am, she dragged herself onto the Northside portion of the Lakeside Trail, and after stretching out her limbs, she started to run.

And didn't stop.

By the time she did, Leah had found herself just north of downtown Chicago. The LaPush Hotel was within walking distance, while the Hancock Tower wasn't too far off. She cupped her cheeks with her hands in amazement and disbelief. She had just run ten miles. One way. And nothing hurt.

Leah hadn't run this far since her marathon training attempt back in college. And did she mention how her body felt? No throbbing shins. Her muscles weren't aching. She wasn't out of breath or too thirsty.

But she was hungry.

Damn it, she was starving.

Taking a series of deep breaths, Leah stretched again. She then checked the pockets to her shorts for her CTA pass—of course, she didn't have it.

She considered calling an Uber, but the overwhelming urge to run away push that thought to the side—After cursing under breath, she took another break and ran back home.

"We got a Volturi associate to sing," Jacob announced that evening, wearing a wide grin as he dropped the paper bag full of the night's dinner on the table. He then handed Leah a file folder. "Admittedly, he didn't reveal much, but it was something: the bosses knew about Demetri's relationship with Jessica and didn't do anything about it."

"They were probably in on it," Leah suggested as she skimmed the days' official reports. "They might've assumed they could get some good intel on the Cullens through Jessica."

"That's what I'm thinking," Jacob said, handing Leah her take-out container before digging into his.

Leah grinned at the sight of food and thanked her partner. Finally, something besides raw steaks. She took a bite of her chicken salad. "So, Sulpicia had the necklace duplicated to further the conflict with the Olympic coven," she paraphrased from the report lying next to her cup of flavored seltzer. "Everyone knows how valuable that necklace is to her, and the Volturi would have every right to get it back by any means possible… but they never got the chance."

Jacob shook his head. "No, Jessica died first," he said, and then added, "Honestly, they didn't need to go through all that trouble…"

"Or maybe they did," Leah argued. "I think they were trying to disable the Olympic by fueling its members' distrust in Carlisle Cullen's leadership."

Jacob brought his eyebrows together. "But how—"

"You remember what everyone said about vampires and humans being in the same circle?" Leah said. "About how it's bad news… Carlisle was messing around with a human; he was even letting her into the family business. I cannot imagine the coven being happy about it, but couldn't do say squat for obvious reasons. However, if a conflict with the Volturi broke out over the necklace, detractors could've blamed Carlisle for the mess—You know what they said: great empires fall from within."

Jacob slowly nodded before taking a bite out of his burger. He swallowed the food down and said, "You may be onto something." He took another bite. "The Volturi's gonna have to think of another plan. Jessica's dead. Carlisle's dead. Edward, as much as he's an asshole, seems to be a competent leader. His fiancé is in charge of the Denali clan…"

"Who do you think ordered Demetri's execution?"

Jacob blinked. "What?"

"Demetri, you know, the one who bit Jessica," Leah said, taking a sip of her drink. "I highly doubt he killed himself, so someone must've put the UV inside his skull for him. It could be an act of relational. Didn't Bella say he died after Sasha and Vasili Denali?"

Jacob's eyes widened as the realization came to him. "Tanya ordered it," he suggested. "It had to be her. Carlisle wouldn't have done it. He knew of the ramifications, but Tanya… she's a firecracker. And she was always close to her family—What was their retaliation for Demetri's death?"

"Mike's Lounge?" Leah offered.

Jacob shook his head. "I don't believe the purpose of the attack was to kill everyone. If you hadn't noticed, Victoria's gang didn't kill the important attendees… I have feeling that if they wanted the Olympic coven dead, they'd all be dead."

"I don't appreciate you forcing me out of my job."

"You act like I fired you—It's for your own good, Detective," Paul told Leah for the umpteenth time. Despite her efforts (which included a PowerPoint), the captain wouldn't budge on the work-ban. And Leah had a sinking feeling that he was enjoying her anguish. "Anyway, you have three more days."

Leah huffed but ultimately decided to drop the topic altogether. "How was work?" she then asked.

Paul shrugged. "Work's work. Sadly, I have to return it in a few hours, but hey, who can say no to some OT?" He stopped his train of through to order a beer—Without WB, he told Quil who gave him two thumbs up. Paul thanked the man and returned his attention to his detective, "Jacob told you of the newest update?"

Leah nodded. "Yeah, he did."

The captain didn't seem too surprised or upset. "The feds are finally warming up to us," he said. "Maybe they're starting to pity us, usually something I despise, but I certainly welcome now. We need all the help we can get, especially with this city's politics tying our hands behind backs."

"At least, you got someone to talk," Leah said. "The Volturi isn't known for being the most cooperative organization."

Paul snorted. "You got that right." He thanked Quil for the beer and then asked Leah about her appointment with Dr. Kim Lopez. "You don't have to get into the gritty details," he added with a grimace.

Leah chuckled; the captain must've heard horror stories. "She says I'm fine. The next few months are going to be terrible, but I'll live."

Paul slapped a hand on Leah's shoulder. "Glad to hear it—And I wouldn't say terrible. You're just to be going through some changes. Like some weird wolf-puberty. Hell, you're doing a lot better than I." He let out a dry laugh. "I was Jacob's first bite," he confessed, adding another laugh. "I love Jacob, Embry, Quil, hell, even Jared. They're like family to me. But they didn't know shit about dealing with manmade-shapeshifters. They were all born with it."

"Was Jacob panicking then as well?" Leah asked, recalling an earlier conversation.

"Oh, you have no idea," Paul replied with a smirk before a swig of his beer, and then carried on, amusement no longer in his voice, "The first night sucked… Saint Patrick's was a bitch."

Leah gulped, watching the captain through wary eyes. His emotions were in high-alert: tense and uncomfortable. She thought about segueing to another topic, but instead, she said, "Yeah, I've heard."

Paul took another swig of the beer. "The whole was a part of a sting operation on the Volturi. A major operation, involving us and the eds. It had everything you could've asked for: mobs, drug and prostitution rings, illegal arms, feuding family… it was going to be the biggest, most significant mass arrest since the Al Capone years… But then, it turned ugly—Fourteen agents, dead. Five cops, dead. Countless others injured…"

"Jesus," Leah breathed out, bringing a hand to her mouth. The body count was higher than what had been officially reported. "Why didn't we hear about this?"

"Can you imagine the public's reaction? It was a covert operation—Damn, I shouldn't even be telling you this…" Paul shook his head. "Anyway, during the shitstorm, I found myself in a handicap match with two of those Volturi-fucks. At first, it was a gunfight, and then, one of those assholes remembered he was a vampire, and both attacked me head-on. Long story short: I was more or less dead, and your partner couldn't imagine a life without me, so he did what he had to do."

"You wanted it?"

"We had joked about it in the past. Many times. But never thought it would happen in reality," Paul said. He shrugged. "But what you're gonna do? I didn't want to die."

Leah slowly nodded. She and Paul were in the same boat. She dropped her gaze to her half-full beer bottle and sighed. She still felt guilty about putting Jacob in such a situation, despite the man insisting countless times he did not regret his actions. If only she hadn't been so dumb—

Leah leaned closer to the captain and asked in a low voice, "Can you…" She swallowed. "Turn people?"

Paul shook his head. "Not an alpha."

"But Jacob is."

"But Jacob is," Paul confirmed with a nod. He then emitted a humorless laugh. "I swear, it's like that man wants to turn the whole damn force."

Leah wouldn't put it past him. "He cares too much," she said.

"That's always been his problem," Paul muttered, shaking his head, and then added, "Not that I'm complaining about you still believe alive. I don't want you dead."

Leah scoffed. "How sweet."

"And you know, Jacob wouldn't have forgiven himself."

"It wouldn't have been his fault."

Paul sent Leah a disbelieving look. "Yeah, trying telling him that," he said with a loud snort.

There wouldn't be any point, Leah decided. Jacob could be too stubborn for his own good—She shook her head fondly, took a drink, and then asked, "So, you're a member of Jacob's pack?"

"He turned me and is competent. So, yeah."

"Am I, too?"

Paul lifted an eyebrow. "Are you?"

Leah shrugged—she didn't know much about pack dynamics. Jacob had made a concerted effort into teaching her several things about her new "life", but he hadn't breached the subject of him being her "alpha". And Leah never bothered to bring up the topic; she could sense his discomfort.

"I have no idea what's going on," she quietly admitted, embarrassed, and frustrated.

"You will," Paul promised. "Just give it some time, and it'll all become natural to you. You'll reach a point when you don't even have to think about it… and that's when the fun begins. Trust me, there are some useful benefits of being a wolf."

Leah averted her gaze. "I'm not a wolf."

"Sure, you are," Paul insisted. "You gotta get used to some things first. That's all. Like the changes to your senses—"

"I can smell the urine from outside," Leah said with a grimace. She could smell the stench now.

Paul let out a hearty laugh, slapping Leah on the back. "Now, that never bothered me. I grew up in New York, smiling piss and garbage on hot summer days were the norm, especially when you walked up from the subway." He shuddered at the memory. "Honestly, for me, the worst smell to get over is the ones from a crime scene. Body fluids plus grime plus the mixture of everyone's perfume and colognes..." he gagged. "Still not used to that shit."

Leah sighed. "Yet another thing to look forward to…" she trailed off, segueing into another subject. "I ran twenty miles a couple of days ago," she said, adding a proud smile. Twenty miles—I can't remember the last thing I've run that much in a day. And after, I felt fine. I'm still not sore."

Paul gave the detective high-five. "Oh, you're going to love running through Sag Forest," he declared.

"I know Jacob is Jacob, but goodness," Leah complained to Embry over the phone one afternoon, following a conversation with Jacob. "It's overwhelming. I can feel it over the goddamn phone… It's like he thinks I'm going to drop dead or something."

Jacob hadn't been calm around her since she had woken up. Sure, there were times when he was in a relaxed state, usually when food was around, but he always had an undercurrent of stress, and it was driving Leah up the wall.

"Paul had a rough time," Embry said. "Almost kill him. Guess Jacob's worried that you'll have the same experience."

The admission shocked Leah. She had always viewed Paul as one of the toughest people she had ever known, and he was never afraid to prove his toughness to anyone. But then again, it was unfair to think the man was invincible.

"I'll give it a couple of months before he stops thinking he cursed you for life."

At least, it's not forever, Leah told herself, though it wasn't what she wanted. She wished the man could just open up to her, like how it used to be before... all of this.

"You do know that I have to work with him. Every day, sometimes weekends. I can't have him like this. Can't you talk to him or something?"

"Honestly, I think it would be better if the words came from you."

"I've never thanked you, have I?"

Jacob cleared his throat as he handed Leah the bottle of ketchup. "There's nothing to thank me for."

"I beg to differ," Leah said, pouring the ketchup for her plate of fries. Oh, how much she loved fried potatoes, especially for dinner. "You need to know that and need to stop worrying about me so damn much. I'm fine. A bit confused, but I'm fine."

Jacob averted his gaze.

"Jacob, look at me," Leah gently implored, snapping her fingers to get her partner's attention. Eventually, he looked at her, expression still troubled. "Thank you so much for everything. You saved my life. Thank you. Do you understand me?"

Jacob swallowed. "Yes."

"Good," Leah said, eyes glistening with satisfaction. Jacob didn't mind her silent gloating, but he did want this conversation to end. If it were anything else, Leah would have granted him his wish. But she had a feeling that if she didn't tackle the issue now, she would have to wait another week. "Now, based on how everyone's been acting around me, it's safe to say that I'm a part of your pack. Which means I can safely assume that you're my alpha."

The panic was evident in Jacob's eyes, and Leah could practically hear the alarm bells going off in the man's mind. But she disregarded them. Leah wasn't going to let Jacob off that easily.

"So, tell me about it," Leah implored in a soft voice, reaching over the table to take her partner's hand in hers. She smiled in relief when he didn't pull back. "Please."

And Jacob did.

"So, what are you going to do about our favorite undercover detective?" Embry asked one morning as he and Leah walked along the Lakefront trail, ready to embark on a run. Earlier, Leah had informed Embry of her newfound ability to run marathon-distance without her body staging a coup. Of course, the younger cop had thought that Leah was pulling his tail (Leah did laugh at the reference) and was dragged to the trial to be proven wrong.

Leah stepped aside to let a biker speed past her. "Excuse me?" she asked, puzzled as she commenced stretching her hamstrings.

"Your soon-to-be-ex-husband," Embry clarified. "What are you doing to do about him?"

Leah stood up and stared at the younger cop, rendered speechless. Sam. Fuck. Right, her husband. The man she was still married to (to her utmost chagrin). A man who believed that his wife was a human. He didn't know about her role in the raid and Jacob's road in making sure she lived another day.

Leah swallowed before resuming her stretching. "I don't know…" she quietly admitted. Honestly, since that night in the tunnels, Leah hadn't thought much of her husband. "I don't know."

She would bring up the issue to Aisha during a phone call later that night.

"Did you ask Jacob for advice on coming out of the you-know closet?"

Leah shook her head before aggressively ripped off a piece of a baguette and shoved into her mouth. "He offered to kick my husband's ass," she pointed out. "Didn't see the point of asking him."

Jacob had made the threat as a joke, that was what he had told Leah, and she hadn't had a reason to think otherwise. Until recently, that was.

"He offered to do what?"

"It's not a big deal," Leah quickly insisted, waving her hand dismissively as if Aisha could see her movements through a video-free phone call. She then added, "Aisha, I don't know what to do with Sam. He still thinks I'm the Leah from before the raid."

Call her paranoid, but Leah had to be careful with her wording. She wasn't comfortable telling the absolute truth over the phone.

"Many people still think you are," Aisha pointed out. "Honestly, it is really his business? You're not planning on being married to the man for much longer. And wouldn't telling him the truth complicate the divorce proceedings?"

"It's not like he's going to tell the judge that I'm some wolf-shapeshifter or whatever," Leah insisted. Sam might be Sam, but he wasn't stupid or close-minded.

"Normally, I'd agree with you, but people become assholes during divorces," Aisha argued. "I completely understand why you want to tell him, but I can also see the downside. If he's feeling vindictive, he can put you and the others in jeopardy."

Leah let out an exasperated sigh. She couldn't think of a good retort because her friend was one-hundred-percent correct.