They Left Me Bleeding at Her Birthday Party

"The trip is off," Ryan said.

He pulled my folded winter coat from the suitcase and tossed it onto the bed. The coat landed across the map I had marked with lookout points, rest stops, and the safest trails for a seven-year-old pup.

I stared at him. "I spent three months planning this."

"Plans change." He did not look up as he zipped a black garment bag around his suit.

That was when I noticed his formal shoes beside the dresser and the silver cuff links already laid out on the nightstand. He had not learned about the change five minutes ago. He had known long enough to pack for it.

"The cabins are paid for," I said. "The guide rearranged his schedule for us. Leo has talked about the migration every day since spring."

"Cancel everything. I will cover the deposits."

"With our money."

His hand paused on the zipper. "Do not turn this into a fight, Ivy."

Before I could demand the explanation he was avoiding, Leo ran into the bedroom carrying a square gift wrapped in silver paper. One side of the ribbon had collapsed into a knot.

"Mom, fix it." He pushed the box into my hands. "Aunt Sophie cannot be disappointed on her birthday."

I looked from my son to my husband. "This is for Sophie?"

Leo nodded as if the answer should have been obvious. "It is her first birthday back in Silver Ridge. Dad booked the ballroom at Moonridge Lodge. Everyone important is coming."

Ryan closed his eyes for half a second.

The small movement told me more than an apology would have. He had involved Leo before telling me. They had planned Sophie's celebration while I confirmed cabin meals, checked weather advisories, and ordered a child-sized pair of snow boots.

"How long have you known?" I asked.

"It came together quickly."

"How long, Ryan?"

Leo shifted beside me, suddenly interested in the ribbon.

"A little over a week," Ryan admitted.

I set the gift on the bed before my grip crushed the box. "You let me finish packing."

"Sophie lost her family in the border fighting," he said, lowering his voice. "She has no one here except us. One birthday should not matter more than making her feel welcome."

"It is not one birthday. It is the fact that you made the decision without me."

"You would have said no."

"Then you knew it would hurt me."

Leo planted his hands on his hips. "I do not care about the wolves anymore. Why are you making this sad? Aunt Sophie said families are supposed to show up for people who need them."

The words did not sound like him. They sounded polished, practiced, and borrowed from an adult who understood exactly where to press.

I crouched so we were eye level. "Families are also supposed to keep promises to one another. You begged me to plan this trip."

His gaze darted toward Ryan. "Dad said we can go another time."

"Did Dad tell you the guide may not be available again this year?"

Leo's mouth tightened. "You always make everything complicated."

The sentence landed harder than it should have. I had spent years making his life look effortless. I had left my healer apprenticeship when he was born sick and needed round-the-clock care. I had sold my mother's moonstone bracelet to pay for specialist treatments the pack fund would not cover. Every fever, school meeting, training injury, and sleepless night had passed through my hands before it ever reached Ryan.

Because I handled everything, Leo had begun to believe nothing cost me.

"Go downstairs," Ryan told him. "Ask Mara to put the gift with the others."

Leo snatched the box from the bed. At the door, he looked back at me. "Please do not ruin tonight too."

The door clicked shut behind him.

I turned slowly. "Too?"

Ryan rubbed the back of his neck. "Sophie thinks you resent her return. Leo has picked up on the tension."

"Sophie moved into our guest wing three months ago. I gave up my sewing room for her therapy equipment. I changed Leo's tutoring schedule because she said mornings were too noisy. I have attended every welcome dinner you arranged. What else does she need from me?"

"Kindness that does not feel like an obligation."

I laughed once, without humor. "And what do I get?"

His expression hardened. "You are the Luna. You have a home, a family, and an entire pack that respects you. Sophie has grief. Try to see beyond yourself for one evening."

A small white box rested beneath the sweaters in my suitcase. Inside was the positive pregnancy test I had taken the night before. I had planned to give it to Ryan at the mountain cabin after Leo fell asleep, when the three of us were finally away from pack duties and Sophie's constant emergencies.

My fingers moved toward the hidden box, then stopped.

Not like this, I thought. I would not offer our unborn child as proof that I deserved his attention.

"Fine," I said. "I will attend."

Ryan's shoulders loosened with visible relief. "Thank you."

"Do not thank me. I am going because I refuse to let either of you tell the pack I stayed home out of jealousy."

I repacked the test in the inner pocket of my overnight bag and chose an emerald silk dress. By the time we left, Ryan and Leo were laughing in the front of the car while I sat alone in the back, holding the ruined ribbon I had retied for Sophie.

Moonridge Lodge glowed against the dark pines. Silver lanterns lined the entrance, and a banner stretched across the ballroom doors: WELCOME HOME, SOPHIE.

Not happy birthday. Welcome home.

Sophie met us beneath the chandelier in a pale blue gown, a moonstone necklace resting at her throat. She hugged Leo first, kissed Ryan's cheek, and then opened her arms to me.

"I was afraid you would not come," she whispered as she pressed close.

Her right hand slid between us and brushed the velvet purse hanging from my wrist.

I stepped back. "Why would you think that?"

Before she could answer, the music stopped.

Sophie touched her bare throat. Her face went white with perfect, instant horror.

"My mother's necklace," she breathed. "It is gone."

Guests began searching the floor. A security guard shut the ballroom doors. Sophie looked around wildly, then fixed her wet eyes on my purse.

"Ivy was the last person who touched me."

Ryan turned toward me.

The guard held out his hand. "Luna, may I inspect your bag?"

I opened the clasp myself and passed it over. His fingers moved through the main compartment, then found the small inner zipper I used only for anti-nausea mints.

He opened it.