Chapter three

Elara’s POV

 

I held my breath as I waited, for a split moment, I thought no one was home. Then the door opened, and there a blonde, middle-aged woman whom I hadn’t seen in years stood staring at me. Mrs. Bennett.

 

For a second, neither of us spoke, the dim porch light illuminated her face, and I watched recognition slowly dawn in her eyes.

 

My throat tightened waiting for the questions, the rejection that usually came with moments like this but I received none, Instead, her expression softened and she opened the door wide.

 

“Elara.”

 

My name left her lips like a prayer before she opened her arms. I didn’t even realize how desperately I needed that until she pulled me into her embrace. The warmth of it nearly shattered me.

 

“Welcome home, sweetheart.”

 

Home. The word lodged painfully in my chest. Before I could respond, another voice drifted from deeper inside the house.

 

“Mum? Who is it?”

 

I lifted my head looking into the room, Near the fireplace stood Adelaide. For a moment she simply stared, my heart hammered against my ribs. At first shock flashed across her face then relief like she had been anticipating this moment.

 

“Elara?”

 

The next second she was moving, Crossing the room so quickly she nearly tripped over the rug. I barely had time to react before she threw her arms around me, the force of the hug almost knocked the breath from my lungs.

 

“Oh my God,” she whispered yet her voice cracked. “It’s really you.”

 

That did it.

 

The tears I’d spent hours fighting suddenly won.

 

A sob escaped my throat. Then another. And another. My knees nearly gave out beneath me.

 

Everything I’d been holding inside came rushing to the surface, the humiliation, the rejection the heartbreak the years of abuse I had endured, the way I had been abandoned time and time again.

 

For years, I had convinced myself I was strong. That if I ignored the pain long enough, it would disappear, instead, it had followed me here, my wounds still fresh, still bleeding. And now it was spilling out in front of the only people who had ever made me feel seen.

 

Adelaide tightened her arms around me.

 

Neither she nor her mother told me to stop crying, nor did they look uncomfortable. They simply held me while I fell apart.

 

And for the first time in a very long time, I didn’t have to pretend I was okay.

 

 

Adelaide sat beside me at the kitchen table while I ate.

 

“Slow down,” she laughed. “Nobody’s stealing it.”

 

I froze.

 

The words were harmless, yet something about them hurt. for years, I had eaten every meal like someone might take it away and for a split second I was worried she might be annoyed with me, the urge to please seeping in I stared at her, guilty.

 

Adelaide’s smile faded.

 

Without a word, she reached over and pushed the basket of bread toward me.

 

“There’s more” she said her face sad, I began to chew slowly trying my best not to offend her. Adelaide stared at me tears leaving the corners of her eye. I looked up confused but she turned her head and quickly wiped them off. I turned to her mum but she turned away too. I kept eating.

 

Adelaide rested her chin on her hand, watching me with amusement.

 

“You know, normal people usually breathe between bites.”

 

Heat rushed to my cheeks and I set down my spoon.

 

Mrs. Bennett laughed softly.

 

“Oh, let the poor girl eat.”

 

“I’m just saying,” Adelaide grinned. “If she keeps going at this rate, she’ll start eating the plates too.”

 

To my horror, they both burst out laughing.

 

And somehow, instead of feeling embarrassed, I found myself laughing this time.

 

The sound felt strange, I had forgotten what my laughter sounded like. Mrs. Bennett’s smile softened as she looked at me, something warm flickered in her eyes.

 

“Adelaide,” she said gently. “Why don’t you take Elara upstairs? She looks exhausted.”

 

I opened my mouth to protest, a yawn escaped instead, Adelaide gave a playful smirk before grabbing my hand.

 

“Come on.” She said laughing , With a groan, I pushed myself out of my chair and followed her upstairs.

 

The room she led me to was small but cozy. A neatly made bed sat beneath the window, fairy lights hanging along one wall and books stacked on a shelf, it felt warm, safe.

 

“It’s not much,” Adelaide said.

 

“It’s perfect.”

 

And I meant it. She smiled before sitting cross-legged on the bed, and for a while, we talked, about everything and nothing except I listened more as she told me about the years after her family left the pack, school, the little café she worked at in town, the customers who constantly flirted with her despite her terrible attitude and I listened it felt good, really good.

 

“I do not have a terrible attitude.”

 

“You threatened to throw coffee on a customer.”

 

“He deserved it.”

 

I laughed till my stomach hurt, and got lost in the stories.

 

At some point there was a soft knock on the door, Mrs Bennett entered carrying three steaming mugs, the rich scent hit me immediately and my eyes widened.

 

“No way.”

 

Adelaide grinned and her mother smiled knowingly.

 

“Of course.”

 

Hot chocolate, the very one we’d begged Mrs. Bennett to make almost every weekend when we were children, the one we’d sworn was magical. Suddenly I felt like I was ten again the times were life was magical.

 

Mrs. Bennett handed me a mug and my fingers wrapped around the warmth, we all sat in a comfortable silence as we sipped.

“So…” The word slipped out before I could stop it. “There are things you’re not telling me.” They both looked at me

 

Adelaide glanced at her mother, Mrs. Bennett sighed softly, she dropped her mug.

 

“There are.”

 

I swallowed, I was curious but I was also tired and I didn’t know if the truth was something I could handle neither did I want to push for it.

 

“When will you tell me?”

 

Adelaide reached over and squeezed my hand.

 

“Soon.”

 

I searched her face for any trace of a lie but found none.

 

“We just need a little more time but until then, you are safe here.”

 

Safety was good just that I wasn’t used to it, yet sitting there between them, wrapped in warmth and memories, I found myself believing it. After they left, I slipped beneath the mattress and for the first time since leaving the pack, my chest didn’t feel heavy I didn’t think of Kevin or Mira or the faces of people who treated me like I was thrash. I was safe.

 

Maybe I had finally found a place where I belonged, with that thought warming my heart, I drifted peacefully to sleep.