Page 69 of Season of the Wolf

Evie

Ten minutes outside the valley—the section of town most hard hit by the flood waters—we crossed paths with the first emergency vehicle we’d seen. They’d come to Seaton Falls from the neighboring city of Smithstone and were a sight for sore eyes. Both my parents needed medical attention, now I was certain they’d get it.

The paramedics made quick work of getting my dad on a stretcher and into the ambulance. They covered my mom’s leg with a temporary bandage for now, until doctors could get a better look at it once they reached Smithstone General.

Her eyes were locked on mine as she sat beside my father, letting the medics fuss over her. I did my best not to cry. She wouldn’t understand if I did. I didn’t want to let them go, but the most important thing was that they would be safe.

The door on one side of the ambulance was slammed shut and I held my breath watching the medic grip the other to close it as well. I prepared myself to let them go. For good this time, because there was no telling where they’d relocate once the town was officially evacuated.

But then, before that door closed, my mother’s hand shot out, pushing against it.

“Wait … Evie!”

At the sound of my name being called, a breath hitched in my throat. Her lingering stare filled with awareness, displaced emotion I wasn’t sure she understood.

ButIdid.

What she felt were lingering traces of love. Love a mother once carried for her perfectly imperfect daughter. I knew because I felt it, too.

I stepped closer when she motioned for me to do so.

As I approached, leaving Nick and my brothers to wait by the side of the road, she had a short conversation with the female medic. When the woman disappeared out of sight, I was confused. She came back with a pen and paper in hand, passing both to my mother.

Closing the last few feet that separated us, I watched her scribble something on the sheet.

“Keep this,” she insisted, pressing the paper into my palm. “It’s the number of a close friend in Chicago. Once my husband is well enough to travel, that’s most likely where we’ll settle until we sort things out.”

My brow tensed and those tears threatened again. Especially when she gripped my hand.

“I don’t … understand why you came into that theater to help us, but … thank you,” she breathed, emotion causing the words to leave her throat strained. “I don’t want to lose touch,” she explained, a look in her eyes that gave me hope. Hope that, maybe, somewhere deep down inside her, she knew. Or at least felt the same connection I did.

“Me either,” I shared freely, hearing my voice break a bit.

She smiled with a familiar kindness in her eyes. “I’ll look forward to hearing from you,” were her parting words, but not before bringing me close, embracing me the way she’d done so many times in the past.

My eyes closed and I reveled in the feel of it.

She couldn’t have known how important this was to me, how significant, but it was. I’d been pining for the love of my parents for so many months. And now, although they still didn’t remember, I had closure.

Or perhaps a new beginning.

I watched that ambulance until the taillights faded into the distance, grateful we hadn’t failed today. I needed that, to win for once.

The guys and I continued on, the next stop in our trek home being the entrance to Nick’s neighborhood. He paused a moment before walking off, staring as though there was so much he wanted to say. However, before he had the chance, I said it all with a tight embrace.

He and my brothers had been brave. Each blindly walked into danger, and all on a whim that theymightfind me.

Might.

I released Nick and no words were exchanged because they weren’t necessary. An understanding existed between us; one where it went without question that we were on the same side and, hopefully, always would be.

We watched him walk away and I was reminded of how he’d gone above and beyond for me today. Especially when I glanced down toward my wrist, at the priceless bracelet he returned to me. Our less-than-traditional journey into friendship was a complicated one, but a true friendship indeed.

The rest of us made the slow trudge home.

Exhausted, filthy.

We made it deep into the woods and the rough terrain tired me out even more—weathering naturally formed mounds and hollows in the soil, the undergrowth. Ethan noticed I still hadn’t returned to full-strength and offered his arm like a gentleman.

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