Warner's POV
Shelly's expression shifts, disappointment flickering across her features as she nods reluctantly. "Understood."
Arlene takes a steadying breath before continuing, her voice carrying a weight that makes everyone in the room lean forward slightly. "The man who took me in after my parents died was from the local tribe. I spent my first seventeen years living on the reservation, and during that time, I had one true friend. Her name was Audrey."
The way Arlene speaks her friend's name holds such reverence, such careful tenderness, that I can feel the importance of this story settling over the room like a heavy blanket.
