Monday evening started with Thane calling Supervisor Hale from the parking lot of the police station and asking her a question that had been sitting in his chest since Sunday.
Gabriel stood on one side of him.
Mark stood on the other.
Both pretended not to listen.
Both failed.
Hale answered on the third ring.
“This is Hale.”
“It is Thane.”
“I saw the caller ID.”
Gabriel mouthed, Terrifying.
Mark gave him a look.
Thane said, “I want to ask about Silas moving into the cabin.”
There was silence on the line.
Not a bad silence.
A probation silence.
Measured, skeptical, and already writing invisible conditions.
Finally Hale said, “That was faster than expected.”
“Yes.”
“Did he ask?”
“No.”
“Good.”
Thane’s ears shifted.
Hale continued.
“If he had asked before I evaluated it, I would worry he was chasing the feeling instead of the structure.”
Thane leaned against the Humvee.
“He wants it.”
“I know he does.”
“He picked a room.”
“I know that too. He texted me three times about not moving into it yet.”
Gabriel covered his mouth.
Mark looked down.
Thane’s heart softened painfully.
“He did?”
“He did.”
“Is that bad?”
“No,” Hale said. “It is annoying in a healthy direction.”
Thane let out a breath.
Hale’s voice changed into the drier tone that usually meant she had already thought through every objection.
“Before I answer, say the boundaries back.”
Thane closed his eyes once.
Then opened them.
“Moving into the cabin does not change probation. It does not make us supervisors. It does not let him avoid check-ins, work, therapy follow-ups if required, fire-service conditions, victim restrictions, GPS monitoring, travel limits, or reporting duties. If there is a concern, we report it. If he violates, we do not shield him. No police information. No case involvement. No using pack as an excuse.”
Mark nodded once.
Gabriel looked both proud and deeply pained by responsibility.
Hale said, “Good. Mark there?”
“Yes,” Mark said.
“You understand that living in the same house means you may see things I need to know.”
“Yes.”
“And you understand that documenting private family life like an incident report will make everyone miserable.”
Mark went still.
Gabriel pressed both paws over his muzzle.
Mark said, “Yes.”
“Gabriel?”
Gabriel straightened.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“You understand that if he is struggling, you cannot joke it out of existence.”
Gabriel’s face softened.
“Yes.”
“You can joke.”
“I know.”
“But not instead of truth.”
“Yes.”
Hale went quiet again.
Thane waited.
He hated waiting.
He waited anyway.
When Hale spoke, her voice was lower.
“I have been doing this long enough to know better than to trust sudden transformation stories.”
Silas’s shift flashed across Thane’s mind.
He wisely said nothing.
Hale continued.
“People improve loudly all the time. Then the audience leaves and they collapse. Or they perform compliance for the people they want to impress. Or they use affection as a shield.”
Thane looked toward the station doors.
“I know.”
“But Silas is not doing that.”
Thane’s throat tightened.
Hale’s voice stayed professional, but the warmth underneath it was real.
“He has been boring when no one is watching. He reports stress before it becomes behavior. He asks permission for things he could hide. He accepts no without turning it into abandonment. He works. He shows up. He has not missed a check-in. His employer is happy with him. His therapy discharge is strong. Fire training exposure reports are positive. He is not fixed. No one is. But his direction is good.”
Thane did not speak.
Gabriel looked down.
Mark’s eyes softened.
Hale said, “I also think living in your den may further solidify the positive behavior.”
Thane’s breath caught.
She said den.
Not residence.
Not placement.
Den.
Hale continued before anyone could react too much.
“Structure, belonging, accountability, daily routine, and people strong enough to hold boundaries may do more for him than an apartment he treats like a temporary holding room.”
Thane’s voice came rough.
“So yes?”
A pause.
“Reluctantly, yes.”
Gabriel made a silent fist in the air.
Mark closed his eyes.
Thane gripped the phone tighter.
Hale added, “Do not celebrate until I finish.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Move-in approved beginning Saturday at noon, assuming no violations before then. I will update his approved residence, GPS zone, and reporting requirements. I will inspect the room Saturday morning before he brings property in. He keeps his apartment through the end of the lease or until counsel confirms clean termination. He does not disappear into the woods. He does not miss work. He does not become dependent on being physically near Thane to regulate himself.”
Thane absorbed that one.
“Yes.”
“And Thane?”
“Yes.”
“You do not become his oxygen.”
Gabriel went still.
Mark looked at Thane.
Hale’s voice did not soften.
“You are important to him. That is good. It is also risky. He needs pack. Not just you.”
Thane swallowed.
“I know.”
“Good. Then I approve.”
Thane closed his eyes.
“Thank you.”
“I am not doing it for you.”
“I know.”
“I am doing it because he earned it.”
Thane opened his eyes.
“Yes.”
“And because I think it will help.”
“Yes.”
“Tell him cleanly. Do not turn it into theater at his workplace.”
Gabriel looked away.
Thane said, “We will be careful.”
“That was not a promise.”
“We will be careful.”
“Better.”
Hale hung up.
For a moment, the parking lot was quiet except for traffic on the street and the distant sound of a patrol unit backing out of the garage.
Gabriel let out the breath he had been holding.
“She said yes.”
Mark nodded.
“She said yes with conditions.”
Gabriel looked at him.
“That is still yes.”
Thane looked at the phone.
Saturday at noon.
Silas’s room.
His room.
Not just waiting.
Approved.
Thane’s chest felt too full to fit inside him.
Gabriel nudged his arm.
“You okay?”
“No.”
Mark said, “Good no or bad no?”
Thane smiled faintly.
“Good no.”
The station door opened.
Crowe stepped out, saw their faces, and stopped.
“What happened?”
Thane looked at her.
“Hale approved Silas moving into the cabin.”
Crowe’s expression did not change for one second.
Then it did.
Small.
Warm.
“Good.”
Gabriel smiled.
“Reluctantly good.”
“That is Hale’s native language.”
Mark said, “Effective Saturday at noon, pending inspection and no violations.”
Crowe nodded.
“Then you have a shift to work before you tell him?”
Thane checked the time.
“Yes.”
Crowe looked at all three.
“Can you work?”
Thane put the phone away.
“Yes.”
Crowe studied him.
Then nodded.
“Prove it.”
The first call was a patrol assist with Grant at a small pharmacy on Redbud.
A customer had called because he believed the store had shorted him on change. The cashier insisted she had not. The customer insisted the register was wrong. The manager had reviewed the drawer twice. Nobody was shouting anymore by the time Night Shift arrived, but everyone had the exhausted look of people trapped in a ten-dollar dispute that had somehow become about dignity.
Grant stood near the counter with her notebook open.
The customer, a man named Leon, held a receipt and a small pile of bills.
“I gave her a hundred.”
The cashier, a young woman named Bethany, looked close to tears.
“He gave me a fifty.”
The manager said, “The drawer balances as if it was a fifty.”
Leon pointed at the register.
“Then your drawer is wrong.”
Gabriel leaned slightly toward Mark.
“Cash has memory problems.”
Mark said, “No.”
Thane inhaled.
Stress.
Embarrassment.
No alcohol.
No deception sharp enough to cut through the rest, though scent was not proof anyway.
Mark asked to review the camera angle above the register.
The manager allowed it.
The footage showed Leon taking money from his wallet, but the bill was partly obscured by his hand.
Mark rewound.
Slowed.
Zoomed.
The corner of the bill flashed once before Bethany took it.
Grant leaned in.
“That is a fifty.”
Leon stared.
“No, it is not.”
Mark froze the frame.
The visible corner showed Grant was right.
Leon looked at the image.
Then at the bills in his hand.
Then his face changed.
Not guilt.
Realization.
“I had a hundred in there.”
He opened his wallet and searched.
The hundred-dollar bill was folded behind a gas receipt.
Leon closed his eyes.
Bethany looked like she might collapse.
“I am sorry,” Leon said.
The apology was immediate and miserable.
Bethany nodded quickly.
“It is okay.”
“No, it is not. I made a whole thing.”
Gabriel said softly, “Whole things happen.”
Leon looked at him.
Gabriel continued.
“Fixing them matters.”
Leon apologized again, this time to the manager and Grant too.
No charges.
No citation.
Just a report note because calls had to become something more orderly than memory.
As they left, Grant looked at Thane.
“You look like you want to be somewhere else.”
Thane stopped.
Mark looked at him.
Gabriel did too.
Thane nodded once.
“I do.”
Grant smiled faintly.
“But you were here.”
“Yes.”
“Good enough tonight.”
Thane accepted that.
It was.
The second call involved a suspicious person near the elementary school playground.
That sounded serious until they arrived and found Patel speaking with a man in muddy jeans holding a metal detector.
The man, Mr. Yates, had lost his wedding ring during his grandson’s soccer practice and had returned after sunset to look for it.
He had permission from the school principal by text.
Patel verified it.
Gabriel watched the metal detector sweep slowly over the grass.
“Any treasure yet?”
Mr. Yates looked up.
“Bottle cap, two pennies, and a tiny toy car.”
Mark looked at the playground.
“What kind of toy car?”
Gabriel turned.
“Do not become invested.”
Mark ignored him.
The ring turned up near the edge of the field fifteen minutes later.
Mr. Yates cried when he found it.
No one made fun of him.
Not even Gabriel.
Especially not Gabriel.
The man held the ring in his palm and whispered, “My wife would have killed me.”
Patel smiled.
“Past tense?”
Mr. Yates looked down.
“Three years gone.”
The field went quiet.
Thane understood then why the man had come back after dark with a metal detector and a permission text.
Some things were not valuable because of money.
Some things were valuable because losing them made the world tilt.
Gabriel’s voice softened.
“Glad you found it.”
Mr. Yates nodded, wiping his face.
“Me too.”
Back at the Humvee, Gabriel stood for a moment looking at the playground lights.
“Quiet night.”
Mark looked at him.
“Do not.”
Gabriel smiled faintly.
“Quiet does not mean empty.”
Mark accepted that.
Thane got into the driver’s seat and checked the time.
Two hours into shift.
Silas would be on dinner break soon.
The secret sat in the vehicle like a fourth passenger.
Gabriel looked at him.
“McDonald’s?”
Thane nodded.
“McDonald’s.”
Mark opened a note on his tablet.
“Silas prefers Quarter Pounder, but he also likes double cheeseburgers. Alejandra accepted Arby’s and would likely accept McDonald’s if framed as no obligation.”
Gabriel stared.
“You have supervisor food preference notes?”
“Yes.”
“Of course you do.”
Thane started the engine.
“Burgers for everyone.”
Gabriel smiled.
“And his supervisor.”
“And his supervisor.”
The McDonald’s drive-through was busier than it had any right to be at 21:12 on a Monday.
Gabriel blamed the fries.
Mark said demand patterns were not emotionally caused by fries.
Gabriel said fries had more civic influence than Mark admitted.
Thane ordered enough burgers and fries for three wolves, Silas, Alejandra, and possibly Cam if Alejandra allowed food diplomacy to spread.
Mark added apple slices for reasons no one respected but everyone permitted.
They drove to Red Dirt ReBuild with warm bags filling the Humvee with salt, grease, and the kind of optimism that came in paper wrappers.
The warehouse lights glowed bright against the dark.
The roll-up door was open. Inside, Silas was fully shifted, wearing his modified safety vest and carrying a stack of cabinet doors under Alejandra’s direction.
He looked up when the Humvee pulled in.
His whole posture changed.
Thane felt it across the lot.
Gabriel smiled.
“He knows.”
Mark said, “He knows dinner. Not the approval.”
Silas set the doors exactly where Alejandra pointed, then removed his gloves and walked toward the bay door.
Alejandra appeared beside him with a clipboard.
“Do not make him late.”
Gabriel held up the McDonald’s bag.
“We brought management tribute.”
Alejandra narrowed her eyes.
“What kind?”
Thane held out a separate bag.
“Burger and fries.”
Mark added, “No obligation. No schedule influence intended.”
Alejandra took the bag.
“Schedule influence denied.”
Gabriel’s ears lowered.
Alejandra opened the bag just enough to confirm fries.
“Seventeen minutes.”
Gabriel brightened.
“Denied but delicious.”
Alejandra pointed at him with a fry.
“Do not narrate me.”
Silas looked between them, smiling already.
“You brought McDonald’s.”
Thane held up his bag.
“Yes.”
Silas looked at Thane’s face.
Then Gabriel’s.
Then Mark’s.
His smile faded into cautious attention.
“What else?”
Thane’s chest tightened.
Gabriel’s humor softened.
Mark said, “Break room.”
Alejandra stopped chewing.
Her eyes moved from Mark to Thane.
“What happened?”
“Good,” Thane said. “Good happened.”
Silas went still.
Alejandra looked at Silas, then at the bags, then at the clock.
“Break room. Door open. Seventeen minutes unless I decide crying counts as workplace safety.”
Silas blinked.
“What?”
She looked away too fast.
“Go eat.”
Silas sat at the break room table with a burger still wrapped in front of him.
He had not touched it.
Thane sat across from him.
Gabriel sat to Thane’s left.
Mark stood near the counter because apparently life-changing news required proper posture.
The whiteboard still read:
DO NOT PUT WET GLOVES IN MICROWAVE
Under it, someone had added:
ALSO DO NOT MICROWAVE LABELS
Silas looked at Thane.
“You are scaring me.”
Thane shook his head.
“Nothing bad.”
Silas breathed in.
“You keep saying that before things that make me cry.”
Gabriel nodded.
“Pattern recognized.”
Mark said, “This is positive.”
Silas’s eyes went immediately wet.
He laughed once, helplessly.
“I hate positive.”
Thane leaned forward.
“I called Hale before shift.”
Silas froze.
His face emptied.
Then filled with fear so quickly Thane nearly reached across the table before remembering to let the sentence finish.
“She approved it,” Thane said.
Silas stared.
“What?”
Thane’s voice softened.
“She approved you moving into the cabin.”
The break room went silent.
Even the warehouse beyond seemed to hush around the words.
Silas’s mouth opened.
No sound came out.
Gabriel’s eyes filled before Silas’s did.
Mark looked down for one second and then back up.
Thane continued.
“Saturday at noon. She has to inspect the room first. GPS and approved residence get updated. Apartment stays handled cleanly. Same rules. Same work. Same Hale. Same everything that keeps this steady.”
Silas did not move.
Thane waited.
Silas whispered, “My room?”
Thane nodded.
“Your room.”
“This Saturday?”
“Yes.”
“I can live there?”
“As soon as Hale finishes the inspection and paperwork.”
Silas’s breath failed.
He gripped the edge of the table with both paws.
“I can live with you.”
Gabriel’s voice broke softly.
“Yes.”
“With pack.”
Mark nodded.
“With pack.”
Silas’s face crumpled.
He tried to stand.
Failed.
Tried again.
Thane was already up.
Silas crossed the space between them and crashed into him, full wolf form shaking hard enough that Thane had to brace one foot back.
Thane held him.
Silas cried into his shoulder, open and helpless and not embarrassed enough to stop.
“I can come home,” Silas said.
Thane closed his eyes.
“Yes.”
“I can come home.”
“Yes.”
“I thought it would take months.”
“So did I.”
Silas let out a broken laugh.
“Hale said yes?”
“Reluctantly.”
That made Silas laugh and cry harder.
“Of course she did.”
Gabriel wiped his face with both paws.
Mark looked toward the open break room door.
Alejandra stood just outside it with one hand over her mouth, pretending badly that she was looking at a shelf.
Cam stood behind her, holding a roll of packing tape and crying openly.
Alejandra turned and hissed, “Work.”
Cam whispered, “I am working emotionally.”
“Not a job category.”
Mark looked at her.
“You are crying.”
Alejandra glared.
“I have dust in my eye.”
Gabriel looked around the spotless break room.
“Very localized dust.”
Alejandra pointed at him.
“Eat your burger.”
Silas pulled back from Thane enough to look toward the doorway.
“Alejandra.”
She waved one hand sharply.
“Congratulations. Do not make me say it twice.”
Silas laughed through tears.
“Thank you.”
She looked away.
“You are still finishing the cabinet inventory.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And you are not quitting because you got a fancy room in a fancy wolf cabin.”
Silas shook his head immediately.
“No, ma’am.”
“Good.” Her voice softened despite her effort. “Because you are useful here.”
Silas’s face broke all over again.
Alejandra muttered something in Spanish under her breath, took one step into the room, and patted him hard on the arm.
“There. Emotion handled.”
Gabriel whispered, “That is her hug.”
Silas nodded tearfully.
“I know.”
Cam sniffed behind her.
“Can I hug him?”
Alejandra said, “After inventory.”
Cam nodded solemnly.
“Fair.”
Mark checked the time because someone had to keep the universe from dissolving.
“You have twelve minutes to eat.”
Silas looked at the wrapped burger like he had forgotten food existed.
Thane guided him back into the chair.
“Eat.”
Silas sat.
His paws shook so badly he had trouble with the wrapper.
Gabriel reached to help, then stopped.
Silas noticed.
Smiled through tears.
“I can open a burger.”
Gabriel lifted both paws.
“Of course.”
Silas opened it.
Took one bite.
Stopped.
Started laughing.
Thane smiled.
“What?”
Silas looked at the burger.
“I am moving into the cabin Saturday and eating McDonald’s in a warehouse break room.”
Mark said, “Both are true.”
Gabriel lifted a fry.
“Life has range.”
Silas laughed again.
The laughter stayed this time.
They ate.
Silas asked the same questions three times.
Saturday?
Yes.
His room?
Yes.
His apartment?
Handled cleanly.
Hale inspection?
Saturday morning.
Work?
Still work.
Fire visits?
Still approved separately.
Pack?
Still pack.
Each answer seemed to enter him, circle once, and then need repeating because happiness was too large to store all at once.
Thane answered every time.
No impatience.
No teasing where it would hurt.
Just yes.
When the burger was half gone, Silas looked at Thane.
“You asked her.”
“Yes.”
“For me.”
“For you. For us.”
Silas swallowed.
“She thinks it will help?”
“Yes.”
“She said that?”
“Yes.”
Silas looked toward the doorway where Alejandra had returned to pretending not to listen.
Then back at Thane.
“I will not disappoint her.”
Thane’s voice softened.
“Good.”
“I will not disappoint you.”
Thane smiled faintly.
“You will be human sometimes.”
Silas blinked.
Then laughed.
“I am not human right now.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I will make mistakes.”
“Yes.”
“And you will still want me home?”
Thane reached across the table and put one paw over Silas’s.
“Yes.”
Silas nodded.
His eyes filled again, but he held steady.
“Then I want to move this weekend.”
“That is the plan.”
“As soon as she says I can.”
“Saturday.”
Silas took a breath.
“Saturday.”
The word became real in his mouth.
Gabriel smiled.
“Moving day.”
Mark said, “We need boxes.”
Silas laughed wetly.
“I do not own enough things for boxes.”
Thane’s heart tightened.
Gabriel’s expression shifted.
Mark, wisely, did not say what he was probably thinking about immediate acquisition of necessary household goods.
Thane said, “Then we get what you need.”
Silas looked at him.
“Not tonight.”
“No. Not tonight.”
“Saturday?”
“Saturday.”
Alejandra appeared in the doorway again.
“Seventeen minutes.”
Silas immediately stood.
“Yes, ma’am.”
He looked at the remaining fries.
Gabriel pushed the fry carton toward him.
“Take them.”
Silas picked them up.
Then hesitated.
He looked at Thane, then Gabriel, then Mark.
“I am going home after work.”
Thane nodded.
“Yes.”
“To my apartment.”
“Yes.”
Silas’s voice trembled.
“For a few more days.”
Thane smiled.
“For a few more days.”
Silas nodded, gripping the fries like they were a handhold.
Then he turned and walked back into the warehouse.
Halfway to the cabinet stack, Cam abandoned all pretense and hugged him.
Alejandra shouted, “Inventory!”
Cam released him immediately.
Silas laughed.
A big one.
Bright.
Wolf.
His.
Thane watched from the break room doorway until Silas went back to work.
Gabriel stood beside him.
Mark on the other side.
Alejandra came up behind them, arms folded.
“He is going to be useless for twenty minutes.”
Thane looked at her.
“I am sorry.”
She waved that away.
“It is good useless.”
Gabriel smiled.
“Good useless counts.”
Alejandra looked at Silas across the warehouse.
Her face softened before she could stop it.
“He has been waiting for somewhere to land.”
Thane’s throat tightened.
“Yes.”
She looked at him.
“You make sure he still comes to work.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Good.”
Then she took another fry from her bag and walked away like she had not been crying.
They returned to work because joy did not clear calls.
At 22:03, patrol sent them to a closed laundromat where an alarm showed rear-door activation.
The rear door was secure.
The side window was secure.
The front door was secure.
The culprit was a mop handle that had fallen against the emergency exit bar hard enough to trip a sensor through vibration.
Gabriel stared at the mop.
“Object crime has returned.”
Mark said, “Do not start.”
Thane smiled faintly and reset the door with the keyholder.
At 22:41, Darnell requested help with a minor disturbance at a diner.
Two men had argued over whether one had taken the other’s regular booth.
The booth had no reservation, no plaque, and no legal standing.
Rusk would have loved it.
Gabriel told the men that booth custody was emotionally understandable but unenforceable.
Mark told him not to say custody.
The waitress solved it by offering pie at the counter.
Both men accepted.
At 23:30, they assisted Grant with a traffic hazard: three trash bags had fallen from a pickup and spread clothing across the right lane of Maple.
For six minutes, Night Shift gathered shirts, jeans, and one extremely ugly Christmas sweater from the street while Grant controlled traffic.
Gabriel held up the sweater.
“This should be evidence.”
Mark said, “Of what?”
“Seasonal aggression.”
Grant laughed.
Thane did not buy anything.
No one mentioned it.
That helped.
At 00:22, a welfare check came in from a woman concerned about her brother, who had not answered calls since dinner.
They found him asleep in a recliner with headphones on, television muted, phone dead, and a bowl of popcorn balanced untouched on his lap.
He was embarrassed.
His sister was furious and relieved.
Gabriel called that a common sibling condition.
Mark agreed, which made Gabriel look suspiciously pleased.
The night stayed normal.
Report.
Drive.
Assist.
Clear.
Repeat.
But under all of it, Saturday waited.
Not like a siren.
Like a porch light.
At 02:14, Thane’s phone buzzed.
Silas.
Inventory done. Home. Stable. No issue. Alejandra said I was only useless for twelve minutes.
Thane showed Gabriel and Mark.
Gabriel smiled.
“High praise.”
Mark said, “Improvement over expected twenty.”
Thane typed:
Good work.
Silas replied:
I keep looking at my apartment. It feels different.
Thane leaned back in the driver’s seat.
The Humvee sat near Fairview Park, engine idling. The city was quiet around them.
He typed:
How?
Silas answered after a minute.
Temporary. But not bad. Like a place I survived until home was ready.
Thane read that twice.
Gabriel leaned over and read it too.
Mark leaned between the seats.
No one spoke for a moment.
Thane typed:
That sounds right.
Silas replied:
I am scared.
Thane answered:
Me too.
Silas:
Good scared?
Thane smiled faintly.
Mostly.
Silas:
Saturday.
Thane:
Saturday.
Silas:
Pack.
Thane:
Pack.
The phone went quiet.
Gabriel looked out the windshield.
“He is going to count every hour.”
“Yes,” Mark said.
“So are we.”
Thane put the phone away.
“Yes.”
The radio crackled.
“Night Shift, assist Patel at Briar and Ninth. Caller reports a loose goat in the roadway.”
Gabriel turned slowly.
“A goat.”
Mark opened the call.
“Loose livestock.”
Gabriel smiled.
“Monday has range.”
Thane put the Humvee in gear.
The goat was real.
It belonged to a nearby resident who insisted the goat was “usually more respectful.” The goat disagreed with that assessment by standing on the hood of Patel’s patrol unit for eight full seconds before being bribed down with a handful of feed.
Gabriel never stopped smiling.
Mark documented “animal returned to owner” and refused to mention the hood.
Patel took photographs for reasons he called evidence and Gabriel called art.
By 04:00, the city settled again.
By 05:47, they headed back to the station for handoff.
Voss and Rusk arrived with morning coffee and the tired alertness of detectives inheriting the shape of the night.
Crowe stood near the board.
“Anything major?” Voss asked.
Mark gave the summary.
“Pharmacy change dispute resolved by video. Lost wedding ring located with consent search. McDonald’s dinner break. Laundromat alarm caused by mop. Diner booth dispute resolved without enforcement. Roadway clothing hazard cleared. Welfare check okay. Loose goat returned.”
Rusk lowered his coffee.
“Loose goat?”
Gabriel smiled.
“You should have been there.”
“No, I should not have.”
Voss looked at Thane.
“McDonald’s dinner break?”
Thane’s ears shifted.
Crowe answered for him.
“Hale approved Silas moving into the cabin Saturday.”
Voss’s face changed immediately.
Rusk went still.
Gabriel looked at Crowe.
“You just dropped that very casually.”
Crowe sipped her coffee.
“It was efficient.”
Voss looked back at Thane.
“She approved it?”
“Yes.”
“Saturday?”
“Yes.”
Voss smiled.
Not wide.
Real.
“Good.”
Rusk nodded once.
“About time, again.”
Gabriel laughed softly.
Mark said, “Hale believes den placement may further solidify positive behavior.”
Rusk looked at him.
“Did she say den?”
Thane nodded.
“She did.”
Rusk’s expression softened.
“Well.”
Voss asked, “How did he take it?”
Thane thought of the break room. The burger untouched. Silas saying I can come home.
“He cried.”
Rusk said, “Of course he did.”
Gabriel added, “Alejandra cried too.”
Mark said, “She denied it.”
Voss smiled.
“Of course she did.”
Crowe looked at Thane.
“Are you ready for him living there?”
Thane did not answer too quickly.
He thought of Hale’s warning.
You do not become his oxygen.
He thought of Silas glued to his side on the sofa.
He thought of Gabriel and Mark beside him.
Pack was not just Thane.
That mattered.
“We are,” he said.
Crowe heard the plural.
She nodded.
“Good.”
Rusk looked at Gabriel.
“Moving day Saturday?”
Gabriel nodded.
“Apparently.”
Rusk lifted his coffee.
“Hide anything breakable.”
Mark said, “The cabin was designed for wolves.”
Rusk looked at him.
“I was talking about feelings.”
No one had a quick answer for that.
Then Gabriel smiled softly.
“Too late.”
Voss closed the handoff folder.
“Go home. Sleep. You have a big weekend.”
Thane nodded.
“Yes.”
Crowe pointed at him.
“Do not turn moving day into a parade.”
Thane looked offended.
“I would not.”
Gabriel looked away.
Mark looked down.
Rusk said, “That was a suspicious amount of silence.”
Thane sighed.
“No parade.”
Crowe nodded.
“Good.”
They drove home under a pale morning sky.
The cabin waited beyond the trees.
Silas’s room waited inside it.
Not empty now.
Ready.
The dresser had space.
The bathroom had space.
The bed was built to hold him.
By Saturday, his clothes would be in the drawers, his soap in the shower, his phone charger by the bed, his scent in the room, his footsteps in the hall.
Home would stop being future tense.
Gabriel sat quietly in the passenger seat.
Mark was quiet in the back.
Thane parked in the garage and shut off the engine.
No one moved for a moment.
Then Gabriel said, “Saturday.”
Mark nodded.
“Saturday.”
Thane looked toward the door into the cabin.
“Our pack is coming home.”
Gabriel’s eyes shone.
Mark’s voice came steady and soft.
“Yes.”
They got out together and went inside to sleep before moving day could arrive.