13

Hope’s POV

I have blamed my father for a lot of bad things in my life, but right now, I cannot be more grateful for what he taught me when he was still alive.

The whistle.

I never thought I would need it, but here I am. I can only hope that I will get through this unhurt.

It is an innocent whistle, a whistle so inaudible and low on frequency that it can catch wolves unawares. But it is also a whistle so potent that it

can damage an opponent’s eardrum and cause their ears to bleed.

In some cases, wolves can even end up deaf.

It is a whistle I have yet to truly master. I am not even sure if I will even cause any damage to the jerk’s ears.

The truck door slams shut and the engine roars to life. I feel the truck start to move.

For a moment, I think that maybe the jerk will stop his assault. Surely his colleague at the wheel is aware of this whole thing? Surely someone will stop him? Slap him to his senses maybe?

From the corner of my eyes, I see the monster slip a thick gloved hand un