“Come on, now, Una. Don’t be like that. Look at me again.” His voice is coaxing. “Why did you have to come to town? You don’t care what I do. How does selling some mushrooms hurt you or the pack? Why can’t you just leave well enough alone.” “How long have you been doing this?” I shrug. I’m busted. What does it hurt to tell him? “Almost ten years.” “You’ve been sneaking off pack territory for a decade?” “I’ve been driving a truck five miles to a farmer’s market to sell honey and jam.” I snort. “I’m a criminal mastermind.” “You could have asked for an escort.” “You would have said no.” “You
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