AnastasiaBy the time I get there, the funeral is already packed. Hunters stand in neat rows, their faces grim, their expressions unreadable. The air feels thick, heavy with something more than just grief.Chief stands near the altar, his posture stiff, his hands clasped behind his back. Beside him is the casket, shut tight. I don’t need to see inside to know why. There wouldn’t be a body, just what’s left of Ralph, broken and torn apart.Chief's eyes find mine from across the space. His face doesn’t show much, but his gaze says everything. There’s anger there, buried under layers of control.Other hunters follow his gaze, their eyes flickering toward me. I meet their looks head-on, keeping my expression carefully composed. Sad, respectful. That’s what they expect. And if I want to stay in this, if I want to figure out what’s really going on, I need them to believe I’m still on Chief’s side.Mom and Dad are here too, along with others from our group. Their presence isn’t just about pa
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