Chapter Two

It was 9 a.m. now. We’d been driving for three hours. The sky was still gray, and the road ahead looked like it would never end. Trees lined both sides of the highway, tall and still, like they were watching us go.

I sat in silence, staring out the window. My fingers twisted the edge of my mother’s jacket. I hadn’t let go of it since I put it on. The scent of lavender was faint now, but it still comforted me.

Aunt May hadn’t said much. Just the occasional “left” or “straight ahead” as she drove. Her jaw was tight, and her eyes didn’t leave the road. I could tell something was bothering her, more than usual.

I wanted to ask. I really did. But I didn’t want to make her upset.

Still… I couldn’t stop thinking about what I’d seen in the woods.

Those eyes. The way they stared. How they didn’t blink.

I swallowed hard and shifted in my seat. “Aunt May?”

She didn’t look at me. “Yeah?”

I hesitated. My voice was soft. “Are we moving because of the wolves?”

That made her flinch.

It was quick, but I saw it. Her hands tightened on the wheel, her shoulders went stiff. She didn’t answer right away.

“I heard people talking,” I added, trying to make it sound casual. “Around town. They said there were wolf sightings in the forest… near school. Near our house.”

The silence stretched too long.

Aunt May’s lips pressed into a thin line. “People talk. Doesn’t mean it’s true.”

“But is that why we’re leaving?” I asked, my voice smaller now. “Because of the wolves?”

She shook her head, almost too fast. “That’s enough, Lia.”

Her tone wasn’t loud, but it cut sharp.

I looked down at my lap. My heart thudded in my chest. I hadn’t even told her the real reason I was asking—not about the phone call I overheard two weeks ago. The one where she whispered the word wolf like it meant something more.

I’d only heard a few words before she walked into another room. But I remembered how her voice changed. How serious she sounded.

Aunt May kept her eyes on the road. “It’s not safe there anymore. That’s all you need to know.”

Not safe.

That didn’t sound like rumors. That sounded like a warning.

I didn’t say anything after that. I just turned my head toward the window and watched the trees again.

But in my chest, something curled tight.

Because I didn’t believe her.

We kept driving, the road stretching out like a ribbon under the gray sky. The silence between us felt heavy, filled with things left unsaid. I tried to focus on the trees passing by, but my mind kept circling back to those glowing eyes, to Aunt May’s tense silence.

Then, without warning, the car jerked and slowed.

“Shit,” Aunt May muttered, her hand gripping the steering wheel tighter.

The engine sputtered and coughed like it was gasping for air.

“Not now,” she said through gritted teeth.

I looked at her, wide-eyed, as the car rolled to a stop on the side of the highway.

Aunt May slammed her hand on the dashboard and let out a sharp curse. “Damn it, damn it!”

I swallowed hard, heart pounding. Out here, with no one around for miles, the quiet felt even heavier.

She muttered under her breath, fiddling with the ignition. “Stay here,” she said finally, and stepped out into the cold morning air.

I watched her pace around the car, eyes scanning the engine. The way she cursed, the frustration in her voice—it was the first crack I’d seen in her calm armor since we left.

I opened the car door slowly, stepping out onto the gravel shoulder. The cold bit at my skin, sharp and sudden, making me pull my mother’s jacket tighter around me.

Aunt May had the hood popped open now, her head bent over the engine. She muttered something under her breath I couldn’t catch, her fingers moving quickly like she knew exactly what she was doing—but the way her shoulders tensed told me she didn’t like what she was seeing.

I took a few cautious steps closer. “Do you… need help?”

She didn’t look up right away. Just let out a long breath through her nose, then wiped her hands on the sides of her jeans.

“No,” she said shortly. Then, after a pause, softer, “Just… stay by the car, okay?”

I nodded, but didn’t move back. “What’s wrong with it?”

Aunt May finally turned to face me. Her hair was messy from the wind, and there was a smudge of grease across her wrist. She looked more tired than angry now.

“Looks like the engine’s overheating,” she said, glancing back at the open hood. “Might’ve pushed it too hard.”

I shifted on my feet, the gravel crunching beneath my shoes. “Why don’t we just… go ask for help?” I asked, eyeing the long stretch of road behind us. “There has to be a gas station or a house nearby.”

Aunt May shook her head instantly. “No.”

Her answer was fast. Too fast.

“But—”

“I said no, Lia.” Her voice was firm now, the kind that made me stop talking even when I didn’t want to.

Aunt May let out a heavy sigh and rubbed a hand over her face, leaving a faint streak of grease on her cheek. She looked down the road, lips pressed in a tight line, then back at the steaming engine like it had personally betrayed her.

After a moment, her shoulders dropped.

“Fine,” she muttered. “Maybe you’re right.”

My eyes widened. I couldn’t remember the last time she’d said that.

She glanced at me, her expression softer but still guarded. “There’s a turnoff a few miles back. I think I saw a driveway—maybe a house.”

I straightened. “So… we’re going?”

Aunt May hesitated. “We’ll walk. But you stay close, understand?”

I nodded quickly. “Okay.”

I turned back toward the car and opened the door, reaching for the seat where I had been sitting. My hands touched the soft leather of my mom’s jacket, and for a second, I paused.

It still smelled like her. Like lavender and safety.

But it was bulky, and I didn’t want to ruin it if it started raining or if we had to run. I swallowed hard and folded it gently, placing it on the seat.

I gave it one last look, then shut the door.

Aunt May was already waiting by the edge of the road, her eyes scanning the trees like she was expecting something to jump out.

I hurried to her side, hugging my arms against the cold.

“Ready?” she asked.

Not really. But I nodded. “Yeah.”

We started walking, the road stretching quiet and empty in front of us.