Chapter 7
1499 Words
ARIA
My heart pounded as I stared at the curtains. The shadow still lingered behind the frosted glass, and I felt my pulse throbbing in my throat. Panic rose so fast my fingers began to tremble. For a second, I forgot who I was. I forgot I was a wolf. I forgot I was the Beta Priest’s daughter. I forgot I had once stood on the edge of becoming Luna. All I felt was fear crawling along my spine like cold water.
I swallowed and forced myself to breathe. My eyes darted around the room, looking for something to use as a weapon. The only thing within reach was a long wooden stick from the corner where I had placed it earlier while unpacking. I grabbed it with shaky hands even though some part of me knew I did not need it. I could defend myself easily. I was stronger than half of the wolves I had grown up with. Yet in that moment, I felt small and alone, standing in a strange house in a strange city.
I clutched the stick tighter and moved toward the curtain. Each step felt heavy. My breath came uneven. My wolf stirred inside me, reminding me of the strength I kept forgetting. I whispered to myself, "You are not weak. You are not helpless." The floor creaked softly under my feet. When I reached the curtain, I paused and listened, but there was only silence. My chest tightened. I pulled the curtain in one sharp motion, and a soft meow filled the air.
I blinked, confusion and relief flashing across my face. I saw a tiny cat sitting outside the door, staring at me with big, curious eyes. Its fur was fluffy and white with little grey patches. It tilted its head and meowed again, making a small and gentle sound.
My fear melted instantly. "Oh," I whispered, lowering the stick. "Oh no, you scared me." I pushed the door open and crouched down. The little animal stepped forward with hesitant paws. I smiled despite my racing heart. "Come here. You are safe." I picked it up and cradled it in my arms. It purred loudly and pressed its head against my chin. My chest softened. "What a cutie," I murmured. "You are safe now."
The moment felt strangely comforting. After everything life had thrown at me, something tiny and harmless brought warmth to my heart. I petted its head and carried it inside. I hoped to find its owner tomorrow. But if no one claimed it, it would become mine.
I spent the rest of the day arranging my belongings in their rightful place.
Night came, and I was exhausted from the day's activities. I lay down and closed my eyes, knowing morning would come fast.
---
The next day rushed in before I was ready for it. My alarm had failed me, or maybe I had been too exhausted to hear it. When my eyes finally flew open, the clock on my phone read 7:30. My breath caught. The message from yesterday flashed in my mind: “Report by 8am sharp.”
Rose Miller was known for strict discipline. She did not tolerate lateness, and she did not tolerate excuses.
I jumped out of bed and rushed into the bathroom. The shower was quick and cold. My teeth chattered, but I ignored it. I dried my face, pulled on a dress, grabbed an apple and a cup of tea, and pushed my foot into one shoe while hopping around the living room trying to fit the other. The cat watched me, head tilted, almost confused by my panic.
"I know," I muttered breathlessly. "I know I'm late."
I grabbed my bag and rushed out the door. The air outside was crisp. I speed-walked to the road and waved frantically at a passing taxi. "Please," I called. "Stop." The driver saw my desperate flailing and pulled over. I climbed in as fast as I could and showed him the address. He nodded and started driving. My heart drummed violently in my ears. I whispered small prayers, begging the time to slow down.
When the taxi stopped in front of the tall glass building with Rose Miller Studio etched in gold lettering, I checked my phone and felt my stomach twist. I was ten minutes late. My palm grew damp around my bag strap. I paid the driver quickly and rushed through the entrance.
The receptionist looked up as I approached her desk. She was well-dressed, calm, and polished. I tried to steady my breath before speaking. "Good morning," I said shakily. "I am Aria. I am the new intern under Miss Rose Miller."
She nodded politely. "Her office is down the hall on the left."
My legs felt weak as I walked. My heart sank lower with every step. I reached the door, raised my hand, and knocked gently. "Come in," a calm voice said.
I opened the door and stepped inside. Miss Miller sat on a rolling chair facing the window. Her figure was straight, elegant, and controlled. Sunlight outlined her silhouette. My voice caught in my throat, but I forced myself to speak.
"Good morning, ma. I am Aria..." I started, but the words barely left my mouth before she cut in. "You are late."
The air left my lungs. I swallowed hard and tried again. "I'm sorry, ma. I woke up late."
She scoffed, the sound sharp and cold. She turned around, and I finally saw her face. Her eyes were stern, her expression unreadable. "What an excuse!" she said. "I do not excuse indiscipline. Anyone who wants to learn and work under me must be disciplined."
My stomach dropped, and my voice trembled. "Please, ma. Do not send me away. I'm new in town and just moved into a new apartment yesterday. I was tired and did not know I overslept. Please, ma, one last chance."
She stood slowly, her movements controlled and precise. "I do not give second chances. First impressions matter. If you cannot take this opportunity seriously, it means you cannot treat customers right." She nodded toward the door. "Excuse me. Lock the door on your way out."
The words struck like a blow. My eyes stung, but I blinked hard, trying to hold back the tears. I turned and walked out of the office, my legs barely carrying me. The hallway wobbled in my vision. My breath was tight. The receptionist watched me approach, and I could tell she already knew.
Miss Miller stepped out after me, her heels clinking sharply against the floor. I rushed behind her. "Ma, please," I begged. "I am sorry. I will not be late again. Please give me another chance."
She did not even turn. She walked straight to the exit with steady steps. I quickened my pace, almost running. "Please, ma," I called again. "Please do not take this chance away from me."
But she reached her car, and the door closed. In a second, the car pulled out of the lot, leaving me standing breathless in the sunlight.
I felt something heavy and painful sink inside me. I walked back into the building with slow steps and turned to the receptionist. "Please," I whispered. "Help me talk to her. Tell her I can do better. I will do better."
The receptionist shook her head gently. "I'm sorry, I cannot help. Miss Miller is very strict. She does not tolerate lateness."
A deep quiet settled inside me. For a long moment, I could not speak. Then, I straightened my shoulders slightly. "What time will she be back?"
"I can't exactly say. But she should be back before 5 pm."
I would wait for her. No matter how long she took. I would not give up. I mumbled under my breath, "Can I wait for her?" as I strolled toward the chairs at the reception.
"Yes, you can," she replied.
I sat on one of the reception chairs. The cushion was firm and cold. The building continued its busy rhythm while I remained still. Students walked in for their mentoring sessions with assistant tutors. Clients arrived with excited faces and left with glowing makeup done by Rose's mentees. "This will be me soon," I whispered to myself. Time moved, people moved, but my heart stayed rooted in one place.
Two hours passed. She had not returned.
Four hours passed, and she still had not returned.
My eyes grew heavy, and my body leaned against the chair. I promised myself I would stay awake, but my exhaustion caught up with me. Slowly, without meaning to, I fell asleep.
A gentle shake pulled me back. I blinked and saw the receptionist leaning over me. "Miss Aria," she said softly. "It's closing time."
My mind was foggy as I sat up. "Is Miss Miller back?" I asked quickly.
"No," the receptionist said. "She has not returned. She will not be back until tomorrow."
The words hit me in the chest.
- Writer
