Page 76 of Raised By Wolves

But you should’ve said goodbye.

Yeah, I should have.

I wonder if Waylon Eugene Meloy will miss the crazy wolf girl and her fang-toothed brother.

I wonder if he’ll keep speeding, and keep winding up in jail.

I wonder if I’ll ever see him again.

“I got one already,” Holo calls to me from far away.

“Good for you,” I say, but not loud enough for him to hear me.

I roll over and pick myself up. Brush myself off. Pluck a few burrs from my sleeve. Wander over to the patch of nettles that bursts up from the ground in the same spot every spring. I slip on a pair of deerskin gloves to protect my skin from the stinging leaves as I harvest them. Soon I’ve got a basketful, and then to the green pile I add almost a pound of morels. I’m rooting around for more when Holo comes running up to me, smiling.

He pats the pocket of the cargo pants that Lacey bought him. “Three trout in here,” he says proudly.

Sure enough, his pocket is dripping water and possibly fish guts. “I don’t think you’re supposed to carry fish in yourpants,” I tell him.

He shrugs. “I don’t see why not. It’s very convenient.”

I laugh. Maybe he’s right. Who’s around to tell us any different?

“Ready?” he says.

I grab my basket and stand up. We stroll back the way we came, careful to take a slightly different route and to step on rocks when we can. This way we don’t create an obvious trail to the place where we sleep.

Which is not, in fact, a wolf den.

Don’t get me wrong—a wolf den can be pretty comfortable. But not as comfortable as a hand-built cabin nestled in the woods.

Home.

The one that no one knew we had.

As Holo and I approach, a figure steps outside. The woman spreads her arms out and Holo runs to her. They hold each other in a bear hug. She looks up at me with shining eyes. Her face glows with happiness and relief.

“When you weren’t in the cabin this morning,” she says, “I thought last night was a dream. But you’re really here. And you’ve even broughtbreakfast.”

Holo’s voice comes out muffled. “We were always going to come back to you, Wendy. And now we’re never going to leave.”

CHAPTER 58

“TELL ME EVERYTHING,” Wendy says, over steaming plates of the food we gathered. Her long brown hair has come loose from its ponytail, and she brushes it away with lean, tanned fingers. “It’s been real lonely here without you.”

The three of us are sitting around a wobbly handmade table in a small, one-room cabin. Pale spring sunlight shines in the window, illuminating the dried flowers and herbs that hang from the ceiling. The rough walls are covered with ten years’ worth of drawings: my wolf portraits, Wendy’s sketches of elk and willows, and the crazed scribbles of Holo, aged four.

Suddenly this room seems like the most beautiful one I’ve ever been in. I didn’t realize how much I missed it—and how much I missed Wendy—until now. My heart feels so full it aches. I’mhome.

“Well?” Wendy prods eagerly.

“Where do I even start?” I say.

“Tell her about the Grizzly,” Holo says with his mouth full.

“You saw a grizzly?” Wendy said. “Was it Sheena? Did yousee her cubs?” Wendy has a name for pretty much every animal in the forest.

“Actually, Holo’s talking about a grocery store we broke into,” I admit.

---