Chapter 13 Lina
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Lina
Saturday mornings were sacred in the Winters household.
The shop opened late, which meant I got to indulge in my favorite tradition: sprawling in my king-size bed with Vivi and Mika while the twins zoned out to cartoons in the living room.
Coffee, gossip, and friends who didn’t judge me for still being in my ratty sleep shirt at ten AM. Paradise.
“Tyler from the grocery store is still asking about you,” Mika announced, scrolling through her phone while hogging the left side of my bed. “According to my mom, his mom won’t shut up about it at mahjong night. Apparently you’re the perfect age to give her grandchildren of their own.”
“Fantastic,” I muttered into my coffee. “Just what I need. A mama’s boy who probably still asks her to cut the crusts off his sandwiches.”
“Hey, Tyler’s not that bad,” Vivi defended from her spot on my right, sketching cupcake designs in her notebook. “He’s got all his teeth and a steady job.”
“The bar is so low it’s practically underground,” I said. “Next you’ll be telling me he can tie his own shoes and I should marry him immediately.”
Mika snorted. “Speaking of Prince Charming, did you know he rearranges the milk at the store by expiration date? For fun. On his days off.”
“Okay, that’s serial killer behavior,” Vivi admitted. “But speaking of concerning behavior, did you see they’re calling another town meeting about the animal attacks?”
The coffee suddenly tasted bitter. Five years since the beast destroyed my shop, and Pine Valley had never quite recovered. More silver crosses appeared on doors every month. Curfews got earlier. Pets went missing. The town that used to laugh at its own superstitions now jumped at shadows.
“My grandmother swears she saw yellow eyes in her backyard last week,” Vivi continued, adding sprinkles to her sketched cupcakes. “She’s started keeping a baseball bat by her door. With nails in it.”
“Your grandmother’s five feet tall and uses a walker,” I pointed out.
“Yeah, but now she’s armed.”
From the living room, cartoon voices suddenly cut off.
The apartment went quiet for about three seconds before two perfect wolf howls filled the air.
Not the playful yipping kids usually did when pretending to be dogs.
These were pitch-perfect, haunting sounds that made every hair on my body stand up.
We froze mid-conversation, coffee mugs halfway to lips.
“What the fuck was that?” Mika whispered.
Another howl, this one longer, mournful. Then Thea’s excited giggle.
We scrambled out of bed, rushing to the living room to find both twins on their hands and knees in front of the TV, staring transfixed at a nature documentary. Wolves moved across the screen in slow motion, and Rowan tilted his head back for another howl that matched the ones on TV exactly.
“We sound like them, Mama!” Thea bounced excitedly. “Listen!” She howled again, and I had to grab the doorframe to steady myself.
“That’s... very good mimicking,” Vivi managed, but her face had gone pale.
Jesus Christ.
“Hey, who wants pancakes?” I said too brightly. “Let’s turn off the wolf show and make breakfast!”
“But Mama-”
“Pancakes,” I repeated firmly, grabbing the remote. “With chocolate chips.”
The bribe worked, but I caught Mika and Vivi exchanging looks over the twins’ heads. Yeah, I’d be getting an intervention later. Add it to the pile of “shit about my kids I can’t explain.”
The rest of the morning passed with forced normalcy. Pancakes were made and devoured. The twins were corralled into actual clothes. Vivi and Mika had to leave early, both hugging me a little too tight on their way out.
“Call if you need anything,” Mika said meaningfully.
“We’re fine,” I lied.
She didn’t look convinced, but what was she going to say? “Hey, your four-year-olds howl like actual wolves and it’s creepy as hell”? We all pretended everything was normal because the alternative was admitting that nothing had been normal for a long time.
***
The shop was busy when we opened at noon, weekend coffee addicts desperate for their fix.
I threw myself into the familiar routine, trying not to think about the morning’s wolfathon.
The twins settled into their corner with new coloring books, and for a few hours, I could pretend we were just another normal family running a normal business in a normal town that definitely didn’t have a beast problem.
Near closing time, the coffee shop had emptied except for the last stragglers nursing their drinks. Mrs. Patterson held court by the window with two other older women, their voices carrying clearly across the space.
“Five years since that thing destroyed these very windows,” Mrs. Patterson announced with the drama of someone auditioning for community theater. She gestured at the replaced glass. “And now pets disappearing, strange howls at night. Mark my words, they’re coming back.”
I wiped tables with more force than necessary, the cloth squeaking against the already clean surface. Fear-mongering old biddies. As if we needed more paranoia in this town.
“My neighbor’s cat hasn’t come home in three days,” one of her companions added. “And there were tracks by the garbage bins. Too big for dogs.”
“The mayor needs to do more than call meetings,” Mrs. Patterson declared. “We need hunters. Protection. These beasts are getting bolder.”
I noticed Thea had drifted closer to their table, abandoned coloring book forgotten. Her little face was scrunched in concentration as she listened.
“Have you seen wolves?” she asked hopefully, tugging on Mrs. Patterson’s sleeve.
The older woman looked scandalized, as if my daughter had asked about her sex life. “Wolves? Child, these are beasts. Monsters.” Her eyes found mine across the shop. “Your mother should know - she was attacked right here!”
Thea’s face crumpled in confusion. “But wolves aren’t monsters,” she protested. “They’re like big puppies. I saw on TV today-”
The bell chimed, cutting her off. Tyler walked in with his mother, because of course he did. The universe’s timing was impeccable as always.
I quickly scooped Thea up before she could launch into a defense of wolf-kind. “Sorry about that, Mrs. Patterson. You know how kids are with their animal phases.”
“Can we go see them, Mama?” Thea whispered urgently in my ear. “Can we go see the wolves?”
“Later, baby,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm. “Now let’s try resting in the nap corner, okay? It’s been a long day. Let’s sleep a little while I finish closing and then we’ll go home.”
“But I’m not tired,” she protested even as she rubbed her eyes.
“Come on,” Rowan said, already heading to the little nook I’d set up for them a year ago when they’d started needing afternoon naps during long shop days. “I’ll read you the wolf story.”
His “reading” involved totally inventing a new story based on the drawings, since he couldn’t actually read yet, but it was a sweet gesture. At least it got them settled while I dealt with Tyler and his mother.
“Poor little things,” Tyler’s mother stage-whispered, watching the twins curl up together in their corner. “No father to protect them when the beasts return.”
I gritted my teeth and smiled. “Can I get you folks anything?”
“Just checking if you’re coming to the town meeting,” Tyler said, running a hand through his hair. “Mom thought we could go together. For safety.”
“Safety in numbers,” his mother added, eyeing my children. “Young mothers shouldn’t be out alone after dark. Not with what’s lurking in those woods.”
Twenty fucking minutes of Tyler’s mother listing his virtues while I cleaned around them. Yes, he had his own car. Yes, he owned the grocery store. Yes, he’d be happy to escort us anywhere because apparently I needed a penis-haver to navigate the dangerous world of Pine Valley after dark.
After many, many negatives about going to the meeting, Tyler and his mother had left with promises to “check in” tomorrow. Mrs. Patterson and her crew had shuffled out still muttering about beasts and the good old days when monsters stayed in the forest where they belonged.
I was finally alone to scrub the already clean tables, lost in thought.
“They’re just going through a phase,” Vivi had offered before leaving, but even she’d sounded doubtful.
Though it was true, wasn’t it? Kids obsessed with things when they were this young, it was normal.
Totally normal. My kids just happened to be obsessed with the one thing that had tried to kill me five years ago. No big deal.
I glanced at the nap nook, checking on my little wolf enthusiasts. Rowan was curled on his side, one arm thrown protectively over...
Empty space.
My heart stopped.
Thea’s blanket was there, her stuffed unicorn abandoned, but no Thea. The back door hung open, sunset light streaming through.
“Thea?” I called, already moving. “Baby, where are you?”
No answer.
I raced through the shop, checking behind the counter, in the bathroom, the storage room. “Thea!”
Rowan sat up, blinking sleepily. “Mama?”
“Stay there,” I ordered, panic clawing at my throat. “Don’t move from this spot, understand?”
He nodded, gray eyes wide.
I burst through the back door, and my worst fear materialized. Small footprints in the dirt, heading straight toward the tree line. Toward the forest.
“THEA!” I screamed, already running.
The footprints were fresh, her little sneaker treads clear in the soft earth. She couldn’t have gotten far. She was only four. Just four years old and heading into woods where beasts lived and hunters set traps and a million things could go wrong.
I hit the tree line at a dead run, following her trail. “Thea, baby, please answer Mama!”
There. A flash of pink shirt between the trees.
“There you are!” Relief flooded through me as I spotted her small form just inside the forest edge, arms outstretched toward the darker woods beyond.
But instead of running to me, she squeaked playfully and darted deeper into the trees. “Catch me, Mama!”
“This is not a game!” My voice cracked with terror as I crashed after her. “Thea, stop right now!”
She giggled, weaving between trees with surprising agility. This wasn’t the place for hide and seek. This was where monsters lived, where my parents had died, where everything dangerous in Pine Valley originated.
I caught her twenty yards in, scooping her into my arms as she squealed with delight. She struggled against my grip, still thinking this was hilarious.
“You found me, Mama! But let’s wait, I hear them!” Her face was bright with excitement. “Maybe we’ll get to see a real wolf, Mama! A real one!”
I clutched her tighter, already backing toward safety, toward civilization, toward anywhere but here. My heart hammered so hard I thought it might break through my chest.
That’s when the howl came, long and definitely real. It echoed through the trees, closer than any wolf should be to town. Closer than anything should be to my baby.
Thea went completely still in my arms, all playfulness evaporating. Her little body trembled.
“That doesn’t sound nice, Mama,” she whispered, pressing her face into my neck. I ran. Flat out sprinted toward the shop, toward safety, toward-
A massive shape exploded from the underbrush directly in front of us.