Bianca
The village square was already bustling when Isaac and I arrived the next morning, even though the sun hadn’t come up that long ago. We’d barely stepped out of the car when Benjamin spotted us, waving enthusiastically from across the square where he was directing a team of workers.
“You made it!” he called, jogging over to us “Word’s already spread. Half the pack showed up at dawn to help.”
I looked around, taking in the scene. At least thirty people were scattered across the square, hanging decorations, setting up tables, and unloading boxes from trucks. Silver ribbons glinted in the morning sunlight as they were strung between lampposts. The skeleton of what would become the central bonfire was already taking shape.
“I had no idea there would be so many people,” I
