Lauren paced in Beth's living room, her footsteps echoing off the walls as she wrung her hands. She kept glancing between the clock and the front door. 
"Lauren, this room is too small for your pacing." Beth groaned. "You're making me sick just looking at you."
"They should be back by now," Lauren muttered aloud, then turned to Beth. "Right? They should be back by now!"
Her mother, seated on the couch beside Beth, gave her a comforting look, but it did little to ease Lauren's anxiety. "Maybe they're just taking time to rally the wolves. Things like this take time, Lauren," her mother said softly, though Lauren could tell she was concerned as well.
Lauren scoffed and walked the length of the living room again. "For them to be taking this long, something must've gone wrong," she replied, glancing down at her wristwatch. The hands pointed to nine p.m., and she felt the knot of dread tightening in her stomach. Every minute that ticked by felt like a countdown she couldn't control.
Without thinking, Lauren grabbed the keys to Beth's van and strode toward the door. "I’m going to the pack’s lair. I need to know what’s going on," she announced. Her hand was already on the doorknob, ready to rush into the night if it meant getting answers.
"Lauren! Stop!" Beth’s voice rang out, making Lauren freeze mid-step. Her mother joined in, her voice urgent as well. "Lauren, get back here this instant!"
Lauren stopped and looked back at them. She tried to explain herself, the words tumbling out too quickly. "You know what's at stake, don’t you? All our lives could be on the line if things aren’t going right. I have to see if they’re still alive, if they need help. My father might have gotten to them. They might need help!"
She could feel her voice cracking, her heart plummeting into fear. Deep down, she was terrified for them—Aiden, Axel, Lia. What if something had happened? What if they’d walked into a trap set by the Council of Alphas? She shook the thought away, but it lingered in her head.
Beth rose from the couch and sighed. "Look, Lauren, I understand how worried you are. We all are. But running off without a plan isn’t going to help them—or us. If you need to do something so badly, maybe talk to Mike. He’s been in one of the rooms since he... confessed about his best friend."
Lauren hesitated, her hand dropping from the doorknob. Part of her still wanted to storm out and search for her friends, but Beth’s words reminded her of something she couldn't ignore. Mike was still in pain after what happened.
Groaning, she let go of the keys and dropped them onto the table, the metal clinking loudly in the silence. "Fine," she replied. "I’ll go talk to him."
Her mother gave her a small, encouraging smile, and Beth looked relieved. Taking a steadying breath, Lauren made her way down the narrow hall to the room where Mike had been holed up. She knocked softly, but there was no response. She pushed the door open, her gaze falling on Mike as he sat by the window.
He was staring off into the distance. His posture was slouched, and his shoulders looked tense from where she stood. His hands were loosely clasped together in his lap, his gaze fixed somewhere far beyond the glass of the window. The faint light in the room cast his face in a soft shadow, and his eyes were dark and unfocused, deep in thought, as if he were trapped in some internal battle.
Lauren cleared her throat. She was hesitant to disturb him, but knowing she had to. "Mike?" 
He gave a small start at the sound of her voice, blinking as if waking from a trance, and looked over at her. His face looked strained and tired, and Lauren immediately grew worried for him. The light seemed to have died in his eyes.
"Lauren," he called quietly. He shifted in his chair but didn’t seem inclined to say anything more.
"How are you doing?" she asked, stepping into the room and closing the door softly behind her. She wanted to reach out, to let him know he wasn’t alone, but she wasn’t sure if he’d accept it.
He shrugged, glancing back toward the window. "Been better," he muttered. He didn’t elaborate, and Lauren sensed that he wasn’t ready to talk yet. But she wasn’t going to give up so easily.
She moved to sit on the edge of the bed beside him, close enough that he’d know she was there, but not so close as to intrude. "Do you remember when I lost Jacob?" she asked. She kept her tone soft, as if trying to coax him out of his shell. "That first battle at Makovsky’s lab?"
At her words, Mike's expression shifted, a hint of irritation flaring in his eyes. "What does that have to do with anything?" he asked.
Lauren held up her hands in a gesture of peace. "I know it doesn’t seem connected. But back then… when I lost Jacob, I felt like I was drowning. He was a father figure to me, and suddenly he was just… gone." 
She paused, looking away for a moment as the raw and painful memories surfaced. "I didn’t think I’d ever get through it. But you were there for me, Mike. You pulled me out of that haze."
Mike stared at her, but he still seemed guarded. She could tell he was listening, though, and she pressed on, choosing her words carefully. "I'm here to do the same thing for you, if you’ll let me."
Mike shook his head slowly, his shoulders sagging as if under the weight of some invisible burden. Lauren saw his eyes glistening with tears barely held back. "It’s different," he murmured. "You wouldn’t understand… what happened with Scott. I killed my best friend with my bare hands!"
Lauren took a deep breath, feeling her heart ache for him. She didn’t want to push too hard, but she knew that if he didn’t let this out, it would only eat him up inside. 
"Maybe I don’t fully understand, but… try me," she urged, her tone steady and compassionate. "I'm ready to listen."