chapter 6: leaving the library

Gift stumbled through the front door, the weight of the book and the unsettling truth it revealed still heavy in her mind. She was no longer sure how to feel. Was she supposed to be elated at the discovery that she was a wolf, or was she grieving the loss of everything she thought she knew about herself? The idea that her entire human existence had been a lie was almost too much to bear. Was the information she'd learned real, or was it just another trick of fate?

"Sweetie, you're home late. What happened?" Her mother's voice, laced with concern, pulled Gift from her spiraling thoughts.

Gift didn't have the energy to pretend anymore. "Yeah, Mom, I'm home," she muttered, barely looking at her. "And I'm not in the mood to talk right now, okay?" She pushed past her mother and rushed upstairs, her heart a storm of confusion.

Her mother's voice echoed from downstairs, softer now, tinged with worry. "Sweetie, open the door."

"No, go away," Gift sobbed, her voice muffled against the pillow she buried her face into. She couldn't hold the tears back anymore—tears of frustration, fear, and uncertainty.

"Sweetie," her mother said gently, "you know what might make you feel better?"

Through her sniffles, Gift whimpered, "No... I don't... I just want to be left alone."

Her mother's voice grew a little brighter, as if she had an idea that might reach her. "Your dad is coming home today."

Gift's heart skipped a beat at the mention of her father. She wiped her eyes angrily, but the pain in her chest didn't subside. "That's not helping, Mom! Go away!" she cried out, her words thick with emotion.

"Then tell me what happened to you," her mother insisted, her voice strained. "Tell me so I can help."

Gift sniffed and wiped her face, suddenly feeling the need to speak, to voice the whirlwind of thoughts and fears racing in her head. "I need to know the truth. I need to know who I really am... What I really am."

Her mother's voice faltered for a moment. "What truth, sweetie? Come on, open the door."

With a shaky breath, Gift slowly unlocked the door, stepping into the dimly lit hallway. She stared at her mother—or, as she now realized, her aunt—her heart pounding as she took in the woman who had raised her.

Her mother's face softened, her eyes filled with a sorrow that Gift hadn't noticed before. "Sweetie, I hope you can forgive us for not telling you everything."

Gift looked down, the tears threatening to return. "But you should've told me! You should have told me at least that I was the reason my parents died! That I caused everything!" Her voice cracked as she let the pain spill out. "I never asked for this. I never asked for any of it."

"No, no, sweetie, you are not the cause of their death," her mother said, her voice firm, but filled with deep regret. She stepped forward, taking Gift's hands in hers, her eyes now piercing, as if trying to pull the truth from Gift's soul. "Who told you that? Who made you believe such a thing?"

"A book," Gift whispered, as if speaking the words aloud was too much. Her throat constricted. "It was a book... a book called 'ONE.' I think that was its name... I don't remember much of it now."

The air in the room seemed to grow heavy with silence, as if the walls themselves were listening, waiting for something. Her mother's eyes widened. "'ONE'?" She repeated the name softly, her voice tinged with sorrow. "A book called 'ONE'? Oh, Sweetie..." Her voice trailed off as she stepped back, her gaze distant.

"Yeah," Gift said quietly, her gaze fixed on the floor. "I found it in the school library. Emily—my wolf—told me to get it. Well... no, she brought it out and told me to say 'hi' to it. At first, it was... weird. But then..." She hesitated, struggling to put the chaos in her mind into words. "It talked to me. It said things. It told me things I didn't understand."

Her mother's face contorted with confusion and concern. "Emily?" Her voice dropped low. "Your wolf?"

Gift couldn't help but smile bitterly. "Yeah. That's her name. Emily."

"But how did she know how to find the book?" her mother asked, frowning, clearly unsettled. "How did she know where to find it, and... what it could do?"

"I don't know how any of it works," Gift confessed, shaking her head. "I just know that Emily—she's controlling me. She took control of my body. She... made me do things against my will. Is that even possible? Can she do that to me?"

Her mother's face hardened, her expression turning grave. "Yes, it's possible. And I think it's time... it's time we all took a little family vacation."

"Vacation?" Gift blinked, trying to make sense of what was happening. "What are you talking about?"

"Yes, sweetie," her mother—her aunt—said softly, but with an air of finality. "A family vacation. A one-year trip. We need to leave for a while. What do you say?"

"A year?" Gift's head was spinning. "What about my friends? What about the school? The dance... I finally got a date to the dance! After 14 years of my life, I got a date. How can I just leave now? What happens to that?"

Her aunt smiled softly, the kind of smile that told Gift she wouldn't get a choice in the matter. "We'll leave before 1 a.m. tonight, sweetie. It's time. It's the only way to keep you safe."

Gift stared at her, unable to process it all. "Okay," she whispered, still in shock. "But... I need to get ready for the dance. I don't have anything to wear."

Her aunt smiled more brightly. "Don't worry. I've got you covered."

Gift found herself standing in front of a full-length mirror in her room just moments later, staring at the delicate pink dress her mother had picked out for her. It was soft and elegant, with a subtle shimmer in the fabric that caught the light. The dress had a gentle flow to it, reaching just below her knees, with a cinched waist that gave it a shape she'd never thought she could pull off.

And then there were the shoes—pretty pink heels, which felt both foreign and right at the same time.

Gift stared at herself for a long moment, unsure of the girl in the mirror. The girl who was both herself and someone completely different. The girl who had no choice but to accept her fate, even if it felt like it was being thrust upon her without warning.

"I'm not sure what I'm doing anymore," Gift whispered to her reflection. "But whatever happens... I have to face it."

With a last glance at the room that had always been her sanctuary, she grabbed her bag, gave one final sigh, and left to meet her destiny.