Chapter 6
1207 Words
ARIA
My phone buzzes on the counter, the screen lighting up with an unknown number.
I stare at it, my heart pounding in my chest.
It rings. And rings. And rings.
I don't answer.
I can't.
Kelly shifts uneasily in my mind, her instincts screaming at me to pick up, to find out who it is, to know what they want. But I already know. Deep down, I know.
It's them. The pack. Maybe even him.
The ringing stops, and the screen goes dark.
I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding.
No more delays. No more waiting. We're leaving. Now.
I carry the last bag to the car and load it into the trunk. The bags I packed last night are already wedged in—clothes, the kids' backpacks, my medical supplies, our documents. Everything we need fits into this one small car. Everything we're leaving behind stays in this house.
I buckle the kids into their seats, checking each strap twice to make sure they're secure. Lily bounces in her seat, already treating this like the adventure I promised. Noah watches me with quiet, serious eyes, and Emma clutches her stuffed rabbit to her chest.
"Are we really leaving, Mama?" Emma asks softly.
"We are, baby." I smooth her hair back and kiss her forehead. "But we'll be okay. I promise."
She nods, trusting me completely.
I wish I had that kind of faith in myself.
I close the car door and turn to find Ethan standing on the porch with his mother, Sarah. They're both watching me with expressions I can't quite read—sadness, worry, something deeper I don't want to name.
I walk over to them, my chest tight.
"Thank you," I say quietly. "For everything. For saving my life six years ago. For helping me build a life here. For loving my kids like they're your own."
Sarah pulls me into a hug before I can finish. She's warm and solid, and for a moment, I let myself lean into her.
"You don't have to do this alone, Aria," she whispers. "Whatever you're running from, we can help. You're family."
I pull back, blinking away the tears threatening to spill. "I wish I could stay. But I can't. It's not safe."
Ethan steps forward, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. "If you need anything—money, a place to stay, anything—you call me. Day or night. I mean it."
I nod, not trusting myself to speak.
He looks like he wants to say more, but he doesn't. He just pulls me into a quick, tight hug and then steps back.
I turn to leave, but Sarah catches my hand.
"Be careful, Aria. And take care of those babies."
"I will."
As I turn back toward the car, I notice Mr. Cole walking over with a small basket of fruit. "For the road," he says, handing it through the window. "And thank you, Dr. Sinclair. For everything you've done for Mary. For all of us."
Mrs. Park from down the street appears next, holding a folded quilt. "For the kids. In case it gets cold."
One by one, they come. People I've treated, people I've helped, people who've become part of my life without me even realizing it. They thank me. They hug me. They press gifts into my hands—snacks, blankets, cards with well-wishes scribbled inside.
I don't deserve this.
I'm a werewolf who's been hiding among them, lying to them about who I really am. And yet they're here, saying goodbye like I'm losing something precious.
By the time the last person leaves, my hands are shaking.
Kelly stirs in my mind, her voice soft and sad. They loved us. Even without knowing the truth.
I know.
I look at the kids in the rearview mirror. They're waving at the neighbors, calling out thank-yous and promises to write letters.
I start the car and pull away from the curb. The city fades behind us as I drive, the buildings giving way to open roads and stretches of trees. The kids are chattering in the backseat, pointing at cows in a field and arguing over who saw them first.
For the first time in days, I feel myself relax.
We did it. We got out.
Kelly settles in my mind, her presence calming as the miles stretch between us and Crescent Ridge. Between us and Declan.
I glance at the map on the passenger seat, my eyes tracing the route I planned. A small town three hours away. Quiet. Off the radar. Somewhere we can disappear.
Lily starts singing a song she learned in school, and Noah groans dramatically. Emma giggles, and I find myself smiling despite everything.
This is going to work. It has to.
***
The first sign of trouble comes two hours into the drive.
A soft thump, thump, thump starts coming from the back of the car.
I frown, slowing down slightly.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
"Mama, what's that noise?" Noah asks.
"I don't know, baby. Let me—"
The car lurches suddenly, the steering wheel pulling hard to the right. I grip it tightly, my heart slamming against my ribs as I guide the car onto the shoulder.
We roll to a stop, and I sit there for a moment, breathing hard.
"Everyone okay?" I ask, twisting to look at the kids.
They nod, wide-eyed but unharmed.
I unbuckle and step out of the car, already knowing what I'm going to find.
The back tire is completely flat.
"Damn it," I mutter under my breath.
Kelly immediately goes on alert, her instincts screaming at me that this is bad, that we're vulnerable, that we need to move now.
I look around. We're on a quiet stretch of road with a gas station visible in the distance. No other cars. No people.
I walk back to the driver's side and lean through the window. Noah is already unbuckled, trying to help Emma with hers.
"Stay in the car," I say firmly. "All of you."
"But Mama—"
"Noah." I soften my voice. "I need you to be the big brother right now, okay? Keep your sisters safe. Don't get out of the car for any reason. Can you do that for me?"
He straightens up, his little face serious. "I promise, Mama."
"Good boy."
I grab my mask from my bag—the one I use for my Dr. W appointments—and slip it on. Just in case. Then I lock the car and start walking toward the gas station.
The mechanic is friendly enough. He agrees to help, and I follow him back to the car with a spare tire and a jack. But as we round the bend, I slow. There's another car parked beside mine now. A sleek black sedan with tinted windows. My blood runs cold.
The kids are waving through the window, their faces lit up with excitement.
"Mommy!" Lily shouts, her voice muffled through the glass. "This nice uncle said he can help us! You don't need to go to the gas station!"
I freeze.
My eyes lock on the unfamiliar car—and the man inside.
No.
It can't be.
- Writer
