CHAPTER THREE

I woke up staring at the ceiling that didn't belong to me. 

It took a moment for my mind to catch up with my body. The bed beneath me was too soft, swallowing me whole, like it didn't want to let me go. The sheets were smooth, carrying a faint scent I couldn't place. The room felt intentional, carefully arranged, like I was just placed here- I was expected. I curled my fingers slightly into the sheets as I stared blankly above me, hoping for what the day would bring. Then it rushed back.

“Yesterday”

“The gate”

“whispers.”

“Werewolf…”

Everything just felt too strange to be true. The word echoed faintly in my head, strange and unsettling. I sat up abruptly, my breath catching in my throat. My eyes moved quickly around the room, taking everything in this time.

The windows stretched tall from the floor to the ceiling, letting in pale morning light that didn't feel warm. A wooden desk stood near the window, sculptured like a bent tree. A wardrobe stood slightly open, revealing clothes that looked like they belonged here: “definitely not for me.”

“This isn't real…” I whispered, moving towards the window. But it was.

My chest tightened; I pressed my palm against it, trying to steady myself. That same feeling crept in again. My heart seeks identity, like I had been dropped somewhere I didn't understand. Of course, I have never belonged, but this feeling is just so overwhelming. It takes a whole part of me. Memories felt new in my head.  My father, 12 years ago, ran through my mind like it just happened yesterday. The feelings felt entangled with each other.

Standing near the door with a small bag clutched tightly in my hands. The heaviness weighed my shoulders down, even though there wasn't much inside. Maybe it wasn't the bag that was heavy. The situation was heavy.

My father moved around the room quickly, gathering things, avoiding my eyes. His silence filled the space in a way that made my chest feel tight.

“Daddy…?” I called softly. No response.

I watched him zip the bag, his hands steady, like this was just another normal day.

“Where are we going?” I asked, taking a small step closer.

He continued like he hadn’t heard me.

That was when I knew something was wrong. The car ride was quiet.No music. No talking. Just the low hum of the engine and the sound of my own breathing, uneven and small. I sat still, my fingers twisting the edge of my dress. I kept glancing at him, hoping he would say something.

But he didn’t.

When the car finally stopped, I looked up slowly. The house in front of us felt… distant. Familiar, but not enough to feel safe. I was still trying to figure out what was happening when I saw her. “My mother,” standing by the door. 

My fingers tightened instantly around my bag. “Why are we here?” I asked, my voice trembling now. My father never wanted to stay with my mother. He always tells me, “That is a safe place for her, and I won't be safe there.” Millions of thoughts ran through my mind. Was he tired of me?

This time, he looked at me.

And something in his eyes made my stomach drop.

“You’ll stay here for a while,” he said.

A while.

The words didn’t make sense.

“What do you mean?” I shook my head. “No. I don’t want to stay here. I want to go home.” He didn’t argue or comfort me. He just opened the car door. I hesitated, holidaying with my mum was not new, but my instinct knew this wasn't just a holiday, my father wasn't happy about it.

But he reached for my hand, and I followed because I trusted him.

I gripped his hand tighter as we walked toward the house.

“Please don’t leave me,” I whispered, my voice barely there.

But instead—He gently pulled his hand away.

“Be strong,” he said.

That was the last time I saw my father. I did my 20th birthday thinking he would come as a surprise, but my mother kept reassuring me he was busy and would visit someday, until she blew the final whistle on him.

My breath came out uneven, my chest rising and falling too fast. The room came back into focus slowly, but the feeling stayed. The fear of being left behind again. I pressed my hand against my chest, trying to calm the ache that had suddenly settled there.

“Why does this feel the same…” I whispered.

I turned my head toward the bedside table, my gaze landing on my phone. If there was one person who could explain this, It was her. The call rang once, twice, three times.

“Hello?”Her voice was calm.

“Mum…” My throat tightened around the word. “Why am I here?”Silence.

“You’ve settled in?”

My grip on the phone tightened instantly.

“Settled in?” I repeated, disbelief creeping into my voice. “I don’t even know where I am! They’re calling this place a werewolf school. What does that even mean?”

A quiet exhale came from her end.

“You’ll understand with time.”My chest tightened painfully.

“No,” I said, my voice shaking now. “I won’t. Not unless you tell me what’s going on. Why did you send me here? Why now?”

“You need to cope.”

“Cope?” I echoed softly. “That’s it? That’s all you have to say?”

“You’re not a child anymore,” she replied, her tone steady. “There are things you have to face on your own.”

A bitter laugh escaped me before I could stop it. “Like he did?” I asked. “Is that why you left me too?”

“I didn’t leave you,” she said finally.

“You did,” I replied quietly. “Maybe not physically… but you did.”

She didn’t respond, and somehow, that hurt more. “I needed you,” I continued, my voice breaking slightly now. “I still do. And you keep pushing me away like I’m supposed to just… understand everything on my own.”

“This is different,” she said.

“It doesn’t feel different.”

“You’re stronger than you think.”

I closed my eyes tightly.

“I don’t want to be strong all the time.”

“You’ll understand soon,” she said again. “Just don’t get yourself into trouble.”

The call ended. I stared at the phone for a long moment before lowering it slowly.

“Don’t get into trouble…” I repeated under my breath. A small, humorless smile touched my lips. I swung my legs off the bed, my feet touching the cold floor. The chill sent a small shiver through me, grounding me in the present. This was real. Everything about it. The room,  school,  feeling. I walked slowly toward the window, my steps quiet against the polished floor. Outside, the school stretched wide. Tall trees lined the pathways, their shadows long and still. Students moved in small groups, their movements sharp, controlled. Like they were listening to something I couldn’t hear.

My stomach twisted.

“I don’t belong here…” I whispered. Something inside me disagreed. A strange pull, Faint, but there. I rested my hand lightly against the glass.

“This place…” I murmured.

It didn’t feel normal, but it didn’t feel wrong either. And that scared me more than anything.

I stepped back slowly, my fingers curling into fists at my sides. If no one was going to explain anything,  then I would find the answers myself. Because one thing was clear now. I wasn’t here by mistake; I belong here. And whatever this place was…It was going to change everything.