My Fiancé Chose Her So I Chose Myself Chapter 40
The Lakecrest representative hesitated.
“This rule would require Lakecrest to acknowledge that our past oversight had systemic gaps.”
The chair looked at him.
“The existing court rulings, council injunctions, and TerraGrid review records already establish that those gaps existed. This vote only decides whether you repair them.”
The expression on the Lakecrest representative’s face shifted.
On the screen behind him, Travis sat in the observers’ section. Evan had lost the right to speak further. Jenna did not appear again.
This time, the people who had once pushed every problem onto me could not make the decision for Lakecrest.
With ten seconds left, Lakecrest’s vote light finally turned on.
In favor.
The revised rules passed unanimously.
The chair read the final language point by point.
Vulnerable members could apply directly for public support and no longer had to rely on private relationships.
Any non-emergency care required the person’s own consent.
Protection registration could not infringe on a third party’s property, housing, work authority, or private links.
Protection contacts with conflicts of interest had to disclose them, and complaints would be handled independently.
The final provision stated that a pack could not use a member’s stronger recovery ability as a reason to reduce that member’s access to basic safety and resources.
I looked at that line.
Being strong should never have meant not needing a blanket, not needing food, not needing someone to turn around and make sure I was there.
The chair asked, “This agreement requires a name. Shall we adopt the title used in the submitted materials—the Whitman Amendment?”
“No,” I said.
Everyone turned to look at me.
“It doesn’t belong to me, and it shouldn’t carry any victim’s name as a reminder to respect boundaries. Call it the Consent and Support Standards.”
The chair nodded.
“Amendment recorded.”
After the meeting, the Thames Riverside representative handed me the formal text.
“You can think of this as justice, late though it may be.”
I took the document.
“No.”
I looked out at the snow beginning to melt outside the window.
“Justice isn’t making the past happen over again. This only makes sure that the next time someone says no, someone hears it.”
My phone buzzed.
The Lakecrest registry had sent an invitation, offering to restore me as an honorary member and appoint me as a liaison between the two packs.
I read it and tapped Decline.