Only Broken

Home Again

A sleek black car drops me off at a short walking distant from the front of the mansion.

The black iron gates loom tall as I walk toward them, dragging my tired feet along the gravel path. My eyes scan the perimeter—at least six men in black suits stand guard. One, stationed directly at the gate, wearing a face as blank as stone.

“No visitors allowed at the moment,” he says the second I approach.

Seriously?

I stare at him, too hungry and traumatized to argue.

I sigh heavily and pull down my hoodie, revealing my face. His eyes widen in recognition, and he quickly mutters into his earpiece. Seconds later, a car pulls up, and I waste no time climbing in.

The car stops in front of the grand entrance. I barely open the door before my mom rushes out, followed closely by dad. Her tear-streaked face shifts into a smile of disbelief. Dad exhales loudly, shoulders sagging as relief washes over him.

“Claire!” she cries, engulfing me in a crushing hug. Dad joins her, wrapping his arms around us both. The scent of home—of them—hits me like a wave. My heart clenches. I’m really here. I’m safe.

I'm home.

“Sweetie, are you okay? How did you get here?” Mom cups my face with trembling hands.

“Did someone drop her off? Was she being followed?” Dad’s voice hardens as he looks to the guards.

“No, sir,” one replies.

“Check the area. I want every corner searched,” Dad commands, and the men immediately scatter.

Mom turns her focus back to me. “How are you feeling? Did you see who took you?” Her eyes darken with fury.

I hesitate. How do I even begin to explain that I was attacked by a werewolf and then rescued by another one who claimed I’m a werewolf too?

My mind throbs. It’s easier to let them think this was just some human k********g.

“It’s okay, Caroline. She’s home. Let her rest. We’ll ask questions tomorrow,” Dad says, stepping in when he sees how exhausted I am.

Mom sighs and wraps an arm around me. “Come on, let’s get you bathed and fed.”

---

Sleep is supposed to bring peace, but instead, I wake up gasping from another nightmare. The same brown creature chasing me through the forest—but this time, I think I was turning into one of them.

I groan, throw off the duvet, and stumble into the bathroom. Cold water hits my face, but when I look up, my reflection startles me.

For a moment, I don’t recognize myself. My eyes look…different. Sharper even.

Stop it. It’s just your imagination.

I shake my head before I head back to bed then pull the covers over myself. I get ready to sleep when I hear it—voices. My parents'.

They're two rooms away and yet I hear them crystal clear.

“Who took her?” Mom demands with a shaky voice.

“It can’t be random kidnappers. There was no ransom, no communication.”

“Caroline—”

“If it was the Kleins, they’re going to regret it.”

The Kleins. Their number one competitor. Whenever things go wrong they're always the prime suspects.

“Calm down. We don’t know that. Let’s not jump to conclusions,” Dad replies.

Silence stretches between them.

“Besides, nobody knows we’re here—”

“Then how come my daughter was taken from me?!” The sound of glass shattering makes me sit up in bed with my heart hammering.

“I told you this town wasn’t safe—”

“No, Caroline. It’s not this town. It’s us,” Dad snaps. “We make her feel unsafe.”

My heart starts to clench hearing my parents say those words.

I don't want them to fight because I run away and got into trouble. It's my fault.

“It’s not this place.” Dad says again, quieter this time. “It’s the life we chose, Carol."

Silence.

Dad clears his throat. "Look, let's not fight okay. She's here. She fine and she's safe."

“You're right." I hear mom agree. “Let’s just talk to her tomorrow. We’ll figure it out tomorrow."

I drag my knees to my chest and stare into the dark, thinking about what I’ve put my parents through.

I can’t believe I made them question themselves as parents. What am I even going to tell them tomorrow?

I sure as hell can’t blurt out the nonsense those people told me about werewolves — they’d lock me up or call someone. They’d think I’d finally lost it.

I sit there for a while, staring at the ceiling, replaying the night until I hear footsteps in the hall.

I quickly flatten myself against the mattress and pretend to sleep just as the door opens.

Someone comes to my bedside and the familiar scent of lavender hits me first. Mom sighs relieved before she smooths my blanket, then slips quietly out without waking me.

I breathe out and hug my knees a little tighter. I have to lie to them. I have to protect them from this because for now, that’s all I can do.