The Luna Who Forgot Her Pack Chapter 10

The Luna Who Forgot Her Pack Chapter 10

The day of the trial, Ethan sat in the defendant’s seat, his suit wrinkled like it had been pulled from a trash bag

His lawyer droned on about how the ‘relationship wasn’t completely broken‘ and ‘the best interests of the child” The judge had to bang the gavel repeatedly.

I submitted the evidence one by one.

Photos of Ethan and Grace. Property records showing Grace’s ‘temporary residence. The recording of Scarlett saying at

school. “My mom is a homewrecker.”

Finally, my statement was simple. “I want him to leave with nothing. And the custody remains with him.”

The day the verdict came down, I was in a meeting.

My lawyer texted: [All liquid and fixed assets awarded to you. Child’s custody remains with him.]

Two weeks later, Mrs. Davis called. Ethan had moved with Scarlett to a rundown rental in the east part of town

“Mrs. Winters, you wouldn’t believe it.”

“The walls were moldy. Rust came out of the faucets. The little one got a fever as soon as they moved in. He was so drunk he didn’t even notice. The neighbors took her to the hospital.”

I paused for two seconds. “Mrs. Davis, you don’t need to update me on his situation anymore.”

About a week after that, the private investigator sent news of Grace.

After leaving Ethan, she’d gone to a neighboring province and tried to get involved with a fifty–something building materials tycoon, a married man, of course.

At first, he was generous. Then his wife found out, dragged Grace out of a hotel room, beat her up, and called the police

Grace spent a night in a cell. The tycoon vanished, along with a significant amount of her money.

Over the months, her savings dwindled. Now she was back on the south side of the city, working as a cleaner at a cheap motel, cleaning over a dozen rooms a day for pitiful wages.

The photos showed her in a drab uniform, her hair carelessly tied back, bending over to mop a hallway.

I looked at them for a few seconds, then deleted the photos.

I remembered her on the college stage, wearing a borrowed white dress, talking about her dream of becoming a designer. Now, she couldn’t even design her own future.

Under my leadership, the company’s performance steadily improved. My father’s old partner moved from doubt to trust.

The new interns called me “Ms. Winters” with a hint of awe in their eyes.

In the mirror, the woman in the professional suit was both strange and familiar.

She was no longer twenty–two–year–old Elara, nor the crying woman from the magazine. She was someone completely

new.

One night in November, Scarlett’s homeroom teacher called. “Is this the guardian of Scarlett Thorne?

“I am not her guardian.”

“But… Scarlett is having some problems at school. Could you come in?”

‘No.‘

“Her legal guardian is Ethan Thorne. You should contact him.”

“We can’t reach Mr. Thorne…”

Then call the police.”

Later, I heard what happened.

Scarlett had stolen a classmate’s pen, the last memento from the classmate’s deceased mother.

When the teacher asked her why, Scarlett said, “Because I don’t have a mom to give me anything.”

Ethan showed up, reeking of alcohol. In front of the whole class, he slapped Scarlett hard across the face.

She ran. All the way to the steps of our old pack house, and sat there until after midnight.

When Ethan found her, she screamed at him, “I hate you! I hate you! Give me back my mom!”

Under the streetlight, father and daughter faced off. Finally, Ethan crouched down and hugged her. They both cried

Mrs. Davis had told me all this too. I listened for a while, then fell silent.

I said, ‘Mrs. Davis, you don’t need to tell me these things anymore either.”

I hung up and stood by the floor–to–ceiling window.

In the distance, fireworks bloomed in the night sky. Someone was celebrating something. Clusters of fireworks burst, lighting up the night in brilliant colors.

I leaned against the glass, thinking of twenty–five–year–old Elara. The girl on the wedding stage, who thought she was marrying for love.