Ava
“We have done it!”
“After all these years, she is the cure we have sought. Do you know how much money governments will pay to get
their hands on this? The cure to all ailments. Humans would become invincible.”
“There is a problem. The silver in her body. It is causing side effects, and she is dying. We need to undo what we
did.”
“Then do it!”
“The effects on her body will take years to stabilize before we can create a sellable product.”
“How many?”
“Three. Four at most.”
“We have waited this long. If that’s what it takes, then so be it.”
“There is another problem. She is pregnant.”
“Are you certain?”
“Yes. We have run the tests twice.”
“This is a problem.”
“Not really. It could be leverage. You know who the father is. We could use the child as leverage if he ever
becomes a problem.”
“What will we do with her in the meantime? We can’t ke ep her sedated like this forever. It’s already been far too
many weeks.”
“I will take her. She is mine. I brought her here. The deal was that I would bring her to you, and once you get what
you need, she would belong to me.”
“Fine. Ke ep her hidden, and send her for memory blocking and reconstruction. We need her compliance in this
matter. If we force her, the outcome will not be as favorable.”
“I will take her. Her new memories will be of me and only me.”
“Fine. Go.”
“Mommy! Wake up!” I try to hold on to the dream, but it fades. Slipping away like sand through my fingers.
“Mommy!” My eyes are heavy, but finally, they open, and grey eyes stare back at me.
“You’re awake, Mommy. You were having a bad dream.” A small hand strokes my face, and I smile, grabbing the
little bundle and snuggling my nose into her neck. She giggles—my favorite sound.
“How can I have bad dreams when I have you, little bean.” I stroke her unruly black hair, marveling at how shiny it
is—reminding me of... something. I have seen hair like this before. Touched hair like this before.
“Come, Mommy. It’s time to get up.” Her voice is excited.
“And why is that? Is something special happening today?” I tickle her armpits, the shriek of laughter nearly
deafening me.
“It’s my birthday.” She whispers these words like they are a secret. I suppose they are. Our whole life is a secret. I
try not to let the thought tarnish the mood.
“Is it?” I ask, feigning surprise while she smacks me on the arm, the smile telling me she does not believe me.
“I’m big today. I’m three years old.” I smile and then scoop her into my arms as I climb out of the bed.
“That you are. Happy birthday, my little angel.” I hug her tight and then swing her around in my arms, causing
another round of giggles.
“Let's see if we have some presents for you!” Excited squeals follow my words as we walk through the little
cottage we call home. Out in the middle of the woods where no one can find us.
I set Aliana down on the bright pink carpet in the small lounge area before pulling out three perfectly wrapped
presents varying in size.
Aliana jumps up in joy before settling down to open her presents, squeals of delight whenever she sees what is
inside, settling de ep in my heart.
Almost quelling the constant unease that resides there. A hole that, no matter what, remains empty. A longing
residing in it that has no words. It aches physically, and I rub the spot with my palm before readjusting my smile so
she won't notice. She is way too wise and astute for her age.
I pick up my camera and take photos of her, her little hands holding up her new teddy bear, and then her dress and
matching shoes, pride and joy bubbling over in every picture.
“You can wear it for lunch when Daddy comes and fetches us. He is taking us out for your birthday. To a real
restaurant.”
Aliana's face lights up.
“Will there be ice cream?”
“You bet,” I say as she holds her dress against her body and twirls around.
After a couple of rotations, she stops, her face suddenly serious.
“Why doesn’t Jerry stay here? With us?”
“You know why. He has important work in the city. But he promises it will only be a few days longer, and then we
will leave here. Move to a new country. You can go to school with other children, and we can all live together as a
family.”
Where he won't find us.
I don’t say it, but that is the reason we are here—hiding out in the forest in the middle of nowhere—because of the
King of Werewolves, the Black Death.
He is looking for me. He wants to kill me because I am the only white wolf in the world—a threat to his crown. I
don’t know how. I am a nobody.
But Jerry says if he gets his hands on me, I will be dead. I shiver just thinking about it.
“Are you okay, Mommy?” Aliana’s small hand is on my cheek again, and I smile before brushing my finger
between her knitted brows.
“You mustn’t worry. Everything will be okay.” She wraps her arms around me, crushing her new dress between us.
“I don’t want to leave here. I don’t want to stay with Jerry.” This again.
“He is your father, Aliana. Why don’t you want to stay with him? He loves you,” I say the words I have said on
more than one occasion. But as
soon as Aliana could talk, she expressed her dislike for her father. She wouldn’t even call him Daddy. Something
that has caused more than one argument in my relationship with Jerry. If you could even call it that.
He was growing increasingly distant, and the underlying anger I sensed was getting stronger. I knew why, but I
couldn’t do anything about it.
Since Aliana's conc eption, which I don’t even remember, whenever he tries to be intimate with me, even just a kiss,
an overwhelming pain shoots through my body. It's so intense it leaves me crippled on the floor for hours.
Where there used to be concern, there is just anger and frustration now. I didn’t know how to fix it or what was
causing it.
Jerry said that his friends at The Underground might have a solution, so they had ramped up the amount of blood
required from me weekly. I hope they find something soon, as I was becoming tired of being used as a pincushion.
The frequency and volume of the blood donations left me feeling weak for longer and longer periods.
Aliana pulls me from my thoughts as she wriggles out of my arms.
“I don’t want to stay with him. He doesn’t love us.” Aliana's voice is angry.
“Don’t say that, Aliana. Daddy loves us.” I try to soothe her, but she st eps back out of my reach. Before she runs
off, her quietly whispered words float to my ears, making me question whether I heard her correctly.
“Daddy might love us. But Jerry doesn’t.”