Chapter 8. Intervention

Amelie

I woke up to the sun warming my face. It was comforting. I felt safe at my family’s packhouse. Within these walls, I was a princess who was shown love and kindness; outside was dark and scary. I sat up knowing I needed to start my day. It would be the last day I get to spend with my family before heading back tomorrow morning. I grab some clothes out of my suitcase and get dressed. I had my favorite distressed jeans and a mustard yellow flannel with a burgundy tank underneath. I head to our family kitchen.

I find one of the cooks making breakfast, which is odd. Usually, my parents keep the family wing closed off, and we don’t have too many maids or cooks wandering around. Celeste is generally behind the stove making meals or I will if I’m home. I shrug it off. There must be a reason that’s above my head.

“Hello, Miss Amelie,” the cook looks at me, beaming, waiting for my request.

I chuckle. I recognize this little Omega, her name is Becky, and