Chapter Three
Tara was impatient. Her nanna told her not to pry, but the young girl was curious.
The next-door house had been closed for so long that she thought it was abandoned, but now, someone lived there and she was curious.
Literally overnight, the house was filled with people bringing in furniture and even making small repairs.
The only thing she wanted to see was the new neighbor. Maybe it was a hot guy, like those she saw in the movies, or maybe an introvert who never left home ... whoever it was, she could only hope they were friendly.
Her parents had sent her to her nanna’s house as soon as the school year ended, and the teenager was sad because she wanted to spend summer with her friends.
In the city, near civilization. Even more so because her annoying twin cousins were also on their way and that was what bothered her the most. They would make fun of her, laugh at her, and annoy the hell out of her.
At least until their nanna took notice and grounded the two hellions.
So, when curiosity made her peek through her neighbor’s window, she saw her on the ground, passed out.
“Nanna!” she shouted. “Nanna!”
A white-haired lady appeared at the window, attracted by the screams.
“Heavens, Tara! What happened?”
“She fainted! She’s on the floor!”
With surprising agility for a woman her age, her grandmother appeared at her side within seconds, grumbling under her breath about the pain in her hip.
“Oh, she’s really on the ground. Quickly, try the door.”
****
The door was bound by a chain. A fickle resistance against the fingers of the older woman, who groped until she triggered the mechanism that would open the door.
“Stupid lock...”
The young woman was passed out on the floor, with her note in her hand and the pie on the floor next to her.
“Heavens! Tara, get me some water.”
Mentally noticing the absurd amount of clothes the young woman had on, Evelyn kneeled beside her, gently patting her face, frightened by the absent air in her open eyes. The woman wasn’t unconscious; she was having a flashback.
Evelyn knew those all too well.
“Come, darling. Come out of it. You’re not there, anymore. You’re safe. Come back to us...” she muttered, only half noticing her granddaughter loitering around the kitchen, bringing her a glass of water.
Dipping her fingertips in the water, the old woman sprayed the young woman's face, murmuring in a low voice, trying to bring her back from the nightmare she had plunged into.
“What’s wrong with her?” asked Tara anxiously.
“She’s almost passed out. Be a dear and go to my room. Bring me the bottle with the rose liquid within, please.”
“What? Nanna!”
“Now, Tara!”
Her voice was firm, with the hardness of steel. Tara had learned long ago not to discuss with that voice. Jumping to her feet, she was out of the door in seconds.
“Come on, little one...” she pressed, but the young woman’s eyes were fixed on the past. On the painful past, if she were to guess. “What did they do to you?” she muttered, her heart already feeling protective of this young, damaged girl.
Tara was back, cradling the precious bottle in her hands. Evelyn opened it and deeply inhaled the essence, feeling calmer already. She made the young woman smell it, relishing when she blinked.
“Come on, little one ... back to us...” she muttered, seeing her blinking, disoriented. “There you are...”
****
Freya was blinking the disorientation away. She felt, more than she saw, the caring hands that gently caressed her forehead, the hands that softly stroked her head, the soft whispers that brought her out of her nightmare.
She blinked once, twice, and then she moved out of her memories. She wasn’t in the woods anymore, trying to escape Lewis’s claws ... she was safely back home, her home, a gift from Mace.
And who was this white-haired woman, who so tenderly caressed her?
Opening her mouth, she let out a blood curdling scream.
“It’s okay, dear, you’re safe now...” cooed the woman, still caressing her head.
“Who are you?” She managed to croak, crawling away.
“You’re safe with me, dear... I’m Evelyn, I live next door”
The next-door neighbor ... the pie ... the barking of the animal...
“A dog...” she muttered to herself. “A simple dog ... not a wolf.”
“A wolf? Hush, child ... wouldn’t you be more comfortable on the couch? Come, now, I’ll help you.”
With the help of the elderly lady, Freya reached her couch. There she collapsed, feeling lightheaded.
“I’m ... I’m sorry...” she managed to say and the old lady simply smiled, with gentleness in her tone.
“No worries, dear. Are you feeling any better?”
For the first time, Freya realized she had no idea who the elderly lady was. But she didn’t have enough strength in her to feel afraid.
“Who are you?”
“Evelyn. I brought the pie.” Given her absent look, Evelyn hurried to add, “Your next-door neighbor. I was here moments ago, to welcome you into the neighborhood.”
“I’m ... I’m sorry.”
“No need to feel sorry, my dear. How are you feeling?”
“Lightheaded.”
“It’s normal. Here, smell this. It will make you feel better.”
It was the sweet scent of roses that surrounded her, and Freya did feel better.
“What is this? It’s wonderful.”
“It’s of my own design,” said the elderly lady, modestly. “Rose fragrance. It allows us to recover our bearings before anyone notices we’ve been mentally absent.”
Freya sat, feeling dizzy. That had to be the most brutal flashback ever. She could swear she was back in his clutches ... but instead, she was facing the most adorable, wrinkled face.
Evelyn had one of those faces, round and frank, smiling and tender.
Her eyes were sharp, seeing more than Freya was comfortable sharing.
Though kneeled, Freya sensed she was much more than an elderly lady.
However, after years of smelling wolves in human bodies, she couldn’t feel a wolf inside the old lady.
Evelyn was just an old, smiling woman, with eyes that saw too much for her comfort.
“How...?”
“How did I know you needed help? Easy, I peeked through the window. I’m an old curious woman, I’m allowed.”
Evelyn was smiling, but Freya was still reeling from the flashback. Her heart was beating wildly, and although Evelyn couldn’t feel it, she was too off kilter to allow someone into her private space.
“I’m ... I’m okay...” she managed to croak with the smallest voice.
Evelyn studied her face.
“No, you’re not. And I’m not going to ask what’s wrong. But trust me, little one. Things can only improve from here.”
“How do you know?” asked Freya abruptly. It was never her intention to disrespect the elderly woman, however, the way she spoke brought harshness into her voice.
“Because I too reached the bottom of an immense well,” said the lady, simply. “And I too managed to crawl my way back. So will you. And remember, you’re not alone, I live next door. Literally,” she added with a smile.
Freya looked into her small eyes, beaded with age, and she felt a longing like she’d never felt before. Because she understood that this old lady had gone to hell and back. And she was a soulmate.
She felt like home. Like the home she lost.