Bitter MOON :No More Chances.

                                                                  Come Home With Me

The corner store on Mercier Street opened at seven and closed at eleven. Nell was there for every hour in between.

She swept the floors until her knuckles bled. She stacked shelves until her back ached. She smiled at customers who never smiled back. Mr. Park, the owner, paid her just enough to keep her from starving and not a penny more.

"You're too soft," he told her one night, locking the register. "This city will eat you alive."

Nell nodded and took the last five dollars in her pocket to buy a sandwich. She ate half. She gave the other half to a stray dog with ribs showing through its fur.

She was eighteen. She had no parents, no home, no plan. The bus station bench was her bed. The flickering streetlight was her nightlight. She told herself it was fine. She told herself she was lucky. She told herself someone would eventually see her.

Her mother had taught her once: You don't have to repay evil with evil.Most people heard that and thought it meant walk away. Nell heard it differently. She thought it meant stay. Keep giving chances. Keep believing people could be better. Second chances. Third. Fourth.

Maybe they just need someone to believe in them, she'd whisper to herself, even when her stomach hurt and her shoes had holes and her hands smelled like bleach.

Then she met Lena.

Lena came into the store every Tuesday and Thursday. Always bought bread and milk and sometimes flowers. Always paid with cash. Always said thank you.

The first time, Nell didn't think much of her. A woman in her forties with tired eyes and a soft voice. Gray streaking her dark braid. Nothing special.

But Lena noticed things.

She noticed that Nell wore the same sweater every day. That Nell's hands were raw and red from scrubbing. That Nell never took a lunch break because she couldn't afford food.

One Tuesday, Lena lingered by the counter.

"You work very hard," she said.

"It's just a job."

"No." Lena tilted her head. "You scrub the floors twice a day. You rotate the produce before it goes bad. You smile at people who yell at you. That's not just a job. That's character."

Nell didn't know what to say. No one had ever called her character before.

"Thank you," she managed.

Lena smiled. It was a tired smile, but warm. "How old are you?"

"Eighteen."

"You live around here?"

Nell hesitated. She'd learned not to answer that question. People got weird when you said bus station bench.

"I get by."

Lena's smile faded. Just a little. Her eyes looked at Nell's sweater. Her worn out boots. The dark circles underneath her eyes.

"I see," she said quietly.

She picked up her groceries and left.

The next week, Lena came back with an extra loaf of bread.

"For whoever needs it," she said, leaving it on the counter.

Nell stared at the bread. "That's very kind of you."

"So are you." Lena leaned on the counter. "I've been watching. You give away half your dinner to that stray dog every night."

Nell's face went red. "You saw that?"

"I see a lot of things." Lena paused. "I also see a girl who works herself raw and never complains. A girl who's been knocked down more times than I can count and still gets up smiling."

"You make me sound like a saint. I'm not."

"No. You sound like someone who needs a break."

Lena pulled out a card from her pocket and slid it across the counter.

"I run a shelter outside the city," she said. "For people who have nowhere else to go."

Nell picked up the card. Plain white. Just a name and an address.

Lena Haven.

"I can't pay you," Nell said.

"I'm not asking for money."

"I don't know you."

Lena nodded slowly. "That's fair. But I was alone once too. I was seventeen, pregnant, and sleeping in a car. Someone took me in. Didn't ask for anything. Just said come home with me." She paused. "I'm just trying to do the same."

Nell looked at the card. Then at Lena's tired eyes. Then at the bread on the counter.

"Maybe," she said. "Maybe I'll think about it."

She thought about it for two weeks.

Lena kept coming to the store. Kept buying bread and milk. Kept leaving extra food on the counter. Kept asking small questions what kind of music do you like, have you ever seen the ocean, what's your favorite season.

Nell found herself looking forward to Tuesdays and Thursdays.

"You're the only person who asks me questions," she admitted one afternoon.

Lena laughed. It was a real laugh, not a polite one. "That's because you're interesting."

"I'm really not."

"You really are." Lena set her groceries on the counter. "Most people who've been through what you've been through get hard. You didn't."

"I just don't see the point in being mean."

"That's not softness, Nell. That's strength."

Nell didn't know what to say to that. So she just nodded and bagged Lena's groceries.

Then she got the letter.

A housing program she'd applied to six months ago. The one she'd been praying for. The one that could have gotten her off the street.

Denied.

Nell sat behind the dumpster with the letter crumpled in her fist. She wasn't crying anymore. She was just tired. So tired.

She didn't hear Lena approach.

"Hey." Lena sat down next to her on the cold ground. "I've been looking for you. You didn't come to work yesterday."

"I lost my job. Mr. Park said I missed too many days."

"How many days did you miss?"

"Three. In three years."

Lena was quiet for a moment. Then she said, "Come home with me."

"Lena …"

"I'm not asking as a customer. I'm not asking as a stranger." Lena turned to face her. "I'm asking as someone who sees you. Really sees you. You don't have to do this alone."

Nell looked at her. The letter. The dumpster. The flickering streetlight.

"What if I'm too far gone?" she whispered.

Lena reached out and took her hand. Her fingers were warm.

"You're not," she said. "You're just tired. Let me help."

Nell looked at their hands. At Lena's kind eyes. At the bread in the grocery bag.

"Okay," she said.

Lena's car was old and smelled like coffee.

They drove for forty minutes, past the city limits, past the suburbs, past the last gas station, onto a gravel road lined with trees so thick they blocked the stars.

"So what's the shelter like?" Nell asked, watching the trees blur past.

"It's old. Big. Needs work."

"Who else lives there?"

Lena was quiet for a moment. "Different people. Lost people. People who need a place to heal."

"That's vague."

Lena smiled. "I don't want to scare you off."

Nell snorted. "I've slept in a drainage pipe. You're not going to scare me off."

"Alright." Lena took a breath. "Some of them are different."

"Different how?"

"Different like… when the moon is full, they change."

Nell stared at her. "Change how?"

"Into wolves."

The car was silent for a long moment.

"You're joking," Nell said.

"I'm not."

"Nope. You're joking."

Lena pulled over to the side of the gravel road. She turned off the engine and faced Nell.

"Do you want me to show you?"

Nell's heart pounded. "Show me what?"

Lena held up her hand. She closed her eyes. Nothing happened for a second. Then her fingernails lengthened. Darkened. Became claws.

Nell's breath caught.

Lena opened her eyes. They were gold.

"I'm an alpha," Lena said quietly. "My pack fell years ago. Now I run a shelter for wolves who have nowhere else to go."

"You're a werewolf."

"We prefer just wolf."

Nell looked at the claws. The gold eyes. The woman who bought bread and milk every Tuesday and Thursday.

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I'm taking you to live with us. And you deserved to know the truth." Lena's eyes faded back to brown. Her claws retracted. "If you want to leave, I'll turn around right now. No questions asked."

Nell thought about the bus station bench. The cold. The hunger. The man who followed her for three blocks.

"Keep driving," she said.

Lena smiled. She started the car.

Haven House sat at the end of the gravel road.

Three stories of gray stone covered in ivy. Stained glass windows. A wooden sign that swung in the wind: Haven House : All Who Wander Are Welcome.

Inside, it smelled like woodsmoke and old books.

A fire crackled in a stone hearth. Mismatched couches circled a low table covered in half-empty mugs and a chessboard mid-game. Bookshelves covered every wall.

And there were people.

Seven of them scattered around the room. They looked normal. But something about the way they held themselves made Nell's skin prickle.

A broad-shouldered man by the fire looked up. His eyes flickered gold  just for a second.

Nell didn't blink this time.

"Everyone," Lena said. "This is Nell. She'll be staying with us for a while."

The room was silent.

Then a girl with sharp cheekbones and braided black hair stood up. She smiled, but the smile didn't reach her eyes.

"I'm Rue," she said. "Welcome to Haven House."

A tall boy with tired eyes stood next. "Caleb. Need help with your bags?"

"I don't have any."

Caleb's face softened. "Then I'll show you to your room."

A little boy peeked out from behind Rue's shoulder. Messy blond hair and huge brown eyes.

"I'm Finn," he said. "Do you like board games?"

Nell felt something crack open in her chest.

"I love board games."

Finn's whole face lit up.

Rue rolled her eyes. "Great. Another one."

"Rue," Lena said quietly.

Rue held up her hands. "I'm just saying. She's human. What's she doing here?"

"She's a guest."

"For how long?"

Lena's eyes flickered gold. "As long as she needs."

The room went cold. Rue looked away first.

Caleb touched Nell's elbow gently. "Come on. I'll show you the east wing."

As Nell followed him up the stairs, someone whispered behind her. She couldn't make out the words, but the tone wasn't warm.

She didn't turn around.

Her room was small. A twin bed with a thin quilt. A wooden desk scarred with old carvings. A closet with no door. But the window faced the rising sun. And someone had left fresh flowers on the nightstand.

White lilies.

Caleb stood in the doorway. "Bathroom's at the end of the hall. Kitchen's downstairs. If you need anything, I'm in the attic."

"Why are you being nice to me?" Nell asked.

Caleb looked at his feet. "Because someone should be."

He left.

Nell sat on the edge of the bed and pressed her palms to her knees.

She was safe now. That's what Lena said. That's what she needed to believe.

She looked out the window at the dark trees.

Haven House was quiet.

But old walls breathe.And Nell had a feeling these walls had something to say.