Page 1 of A Wolf of War
PART I
1
WILLOW
The end of the month always hit hard.
Reports piled up, meetings drained her bandwidth, and her vastly varied tasks converged in a maddening rush. But for Willow, it was in these moments that the repetition became both her burden and reprieve. Each task had a rhythm that made it easy to fall into step, a steadying force she waltzed in time with.
“Hey, quick question.”
Broken from her trance, Willow sucked in a shallow breath, flinching at the words, though they had been softly spoken.
“Don’t scare me like that, Poppy.” Her tone was unintentionally sharp.
“Okay, okay. I didn’t mean to.”
Willow eyed her older sister, who stood in the doorway, hands up as though in surrender.
Poppy recognized that there was a boundary she had crossed. She knew that no distraction was welcome when it was nearly time to rip another page off the big calendar on Willow’s office wall.
“I just wanted to let you know dinner will be ready soon.”
“That’s why you’re in here bothering me?”
“Look, you need to eat. It’s been twelve hourssince you locked yourself in here. So, yeah, I’m bugging you about dinner.”
Willow exhaled slowly, her eyes closing as she tried to release the weight pressing against her chest. It wasn’t really Poppy that was irritating her—it was the crushing awareness of how little time remained to finish everything. The flurry of tasks left her drained and hollow with exhaustion. She reached beneath her, fingers brushing against the cool edge of the mini-fridge tucked beneath her desk. With a soft click, she opened it and pulled out a long-necked bottle.
Poppy eyed the beer but held her tongue, instead quirking an eyebrow and saying, “It’ll be ready in an hour, toots. I’ll be back, and you will be leaving this office and eating.”
With that, her sister turned and walked back down the hallway on the second floor of their little three-bedroom condo. Willow had picked it out because of the all-season room she turned into her office, getting a fourth room in the process. The third bedroom was an art studio for her sister to do crafts, a favorite pastime—of which she had many, almost all projects left abandoned after the fixation ended.
Having all of those windows letting in sunshine made her heart brim with joy. She hadnever seen an all-seasons room on the second floor. It was a lovely place for it, she had decided.
Except, of course, when she was writhing with anxiety because of her ever-growing to-do list.
Willow sighed between sips. Each bitter mouthful was easier to swallow than the last, and soon she had downed the entire bottle.
“Alright, break’s over,” she muttered, straightening her back as she pulled her chair closer to the monitors. The first task was to record the KPIs, and then she’d dive into assigning articles once she’d figured out which writers were hitting the mark the previous month. Her position as editor-in-chief kept her busy, but it paid well, and the money was well worth it.
That’s what she told herself, anyway.
***
When Poppy returnedto collect Willow, she had managed to get halfway through updating a spreadsheet, while her inbox continued to ping in the background. With great hesitation and quite a lot of sighing, she dragged herself away from her desk and followed her sister out into thehallway.
The wooden floors were still faintly slick beneath her socks, the result of Poppy’s meticulous washing and polishing. The floors gleamed under the soft light, pulling gold instead of brown. Even so, she wished her sister would take it easier on her aching hands.
Willow gripped the banister as they descended the stairs, which opened into an airy, open-concept living space. The kitchen was separated from the living room by a long counter, which had stools lined up against it. It was sleek and modern, black and white with small splashes of color here and there. Poppy thought it felt sterile. Willow simply thought it looked clean.
A mouthwatering scent filled the air, and despite her reluctance to admit it, Willow had to concede that Poppy was right. She needed to fuel herself. Her stomach grumbled, flipping over.
She trailed Poppy into the kitchen, her fingers brushing the smooth surface of the granite countertop. A feast awaited her—a golden spiral ham, creamy au gratin potatoes, sweet candied yams, roasted asparagus, soft rolls, and a bowl of ruby red cranberry sauce.
“You’ve been working hard lately. You deserve a nice dinner to celebrate all your success this month.”
Willow scoffed even as she smiled. Her sister knewshe had a weak spot for cranberry sauce.
