Sweets for the Wolf

Promises in the Dark

Elena burst through the back door of Sweet Haven Bakery, dripping wet and shivering from the cold rain. Her bike clattered against the wall as she let it fall, her knee throbbing with every step. She gritted her teeth, ignoring the pain. There wasn’t time to feel sorry for herself.

Martha, the bakery’s warm yet sharp-eyed owner, turned from the counter where she was boxing up pastries. Her eyes widened when she saw Elena’s soaked and disheveled state.

“Elena! What on earth happened?” Martha hurried over, worry knitting her brows. “You look like you got caught in a hurricane.”

“Car accident,” Elena muttered, brushing rain-soaked hair from her face. “I’m fine. Just need a new delivery.” She limped toward the counter, trying to hide the pain radiating from her knee.

Martha’s eyes narrowed. “Fine? You’re limping! Sit down before you collapse.” She guided Elena to a chair, hands firm but gentle. “Tell me what happened.”

Elena sank into the seat reluctantly, hissing as her knee protested. “I crashed into a car,” she admitted, wiping water from her face. “I wasn’t paying attention. The desserts were ruined.”

Martha let out a soft sigh, shaking her head. “You’re too hard on yourself. I’ll pack another order, but you’re not going anywhere with that knee.”

“I’m fine,” Elena insisted, pushing to stand, but the sharp sting forced her back down with a wince.

Martha frowned, arms crossed. “You’re staying put.” She disappeared into the kitchen, returning moments later with a fresh batch of cupcakes. “I’ll have someone else deliver these.”

Elena’s heart sank. “No, please. I need to do it. I can’t lose this job.”

Martha’s face softened. “You won’t lose the job, dear. But you’ll lose your leg if you don’t take care of yourself.” She placed a hand on Elena’s shoulder. “Take the night off.” Elena knew Martha wouldn’t budge. “Okay,” she whispered, defeated.

Elena quietly unlocked the door to the small apartment, pushing it open as gently as possible, hoping not to wake her mother. The scent of old wood and lavender—a fading remnant of better times—filled the air. She hung her drenched jacket by the door and stepped into the dimly lit living room, where the soft glow of a lamp flickered weakly.

“Is that you, Elena?” a frail voice called from the adjacent room.

Elena winced. She had hoped to slip in unnoticed. “Yeah, it’s me, Mom. Sorry I woke you.”

Her mother, Grace, emerged from the bedroom, her thin frame swathed in a worn sweater that hung loosely around her shoulders. Her hair, streaked with silver, framed a face lined with worry and exhaustion. Yet her eyes still held warmth, the kind that always seemed to brighten at the sight of her daughter.

“I wasn’t asleep,” Grace said, coughing lightly into her hand. “I was waiting for you. You’re soaked. What happened?” Her eyes traveled over Elena, narrowing in concern. “And why are you limping?”

Elena forced a smile, trying to hide the pain throbbing in her knee. “I slipped on the wet pavement, that’s all. I’m fine. Just a little fall.” She waved a hand dismissively, hoping her mother wouldn’t notice the stiffness in her movements.

Grace frowned, stepping closer, her gaze searching. “Are you sure? You look hurt.”

“I’m fine, Mom,” Elena insisted, grabbing a towel from the kitchen counter and dabbing at her damp hair. “Really. You know me—clumsy as ever.” She kept her tone light, pretending it was nothing more than an everyday mishap.

Grace sighed but didn’t press further. Instead, she sank into the old armchair by the window, her face pale and weary. “Mr Greenway came by again today,” she said softly, her voice tinged with worry. “He asked about the rent.”

Elena froze for a moment, the weight of her mother’s words pressing on her shoulders. She forced a smile, though her heart ached. “Don’t worry about it, Mom. My paycheck’s coming soon, and I’ll take care of it. We’re fine.”

Grace shook her head, her eyes sad. “You work so hard, and it’s still not enough. I hate that you have to carry all of this.”

Elena crossed the room and knelt beside her mother, ignoring the sharp pain in her knee. She took Grace’s hand, holding it tightly. “We’re getting by,” she said softly. “I’ll figure it out. You don’t need to worry.”

For a moment, the room was silent except for the soft hum of the refrigerator. Grace’s hand trembled slightly in Elena’s, and Elena squeezed it gently, offering the only comfort she could.

“I’m proud of you,” Grace whispered, her voice breaking slightly. “You’ve always been so strong.”

Elena blinked back the sting of tears, leaning in to press a kiss to her mother’s forehead. “Get some rest, okay? Everything’s going to be fine.”

Grace nodded reluctantly, her eyes heavy with exhaustion. “Don’t stay up too late,” she murmured, sinking deeper into the chair.

“I won’t,” Elena promised, watching as her mother’s breathing slowed and softened. She stayed there for a while, kneeling on the floor, listening to the steady rhythm of Grace’s breath.

When she finally stood, her knee throbbed with renewed intensity, but she ignored it. She had more important things to worry about. Like keeping her promise.

As she turned off the light and settled onto the couch, her mind raced with thoughts of overdue rent, ruined cupcakes, and the silver eyes that haunted her memory. But no matter what, she couldn’t let her mother down.

She wouldn’t.