Chapter Two

The Move 

It was the same thing over again, the same dream. The same eyes followed me for over half of my life, at this point I didn't even feel like a nightmare anymore. It felt like a memory.

I wake up two minutes before my seven am alarm. Because of course I do, that’s who I am now—neurotic, sleep-deprived, and haunted by dreams that always feel too real.

I lie still, staring at the faded glow-in-the-dark stars that Gran stuck to the ceiling for my seventh birthday.

We move today..

Today, I leave everything I’ve ever known behind. The anxiety surrounding this hasn’t let me forget that for a single second since gran barged into my room a few weeks ago and announced that she’d put our home on the market.

First came the dreams—different monsters with red eyes. Then came sleepwalking, gran had to put a bolt on the top of every single door in the house so I didn’t wander off in the middle of the night. Last week I broke out in hives just thinking about walking into a new school where I don’t know anyone.

“Saxa! Gran’s voice calls out from downstairs. Her usual cheerful sing-song.

Groaning, I roll out of bed, dragging my feet as I get dressed. Might as well take my time—it’s the last morning I’ll ever spend in this room. This house won’t be ours anymore after today.

I pause at my window, staring down at the bright red SOLD sign stabbed into our front lawn. A weight settling in my chest..

We’ve lived in Connecticut for as long as I can remember. It was my parents home, the only place I’ve ever felt close to them. Leaving feels like losing the only piece I’ve ever had.

They died when I was just a few weeks old, car crash.

No survivors.

Gran said the doctors did everything they could.

After that, gran gave up everything to raise me here, in their home. She said the therapist insisted it was important—for my emotional development or whatever the hell. That it would be too traumatic to move me somewhere unfamiliar. She took that to heart, leaving her home country to be with me..

But now, we’re doing exactly that.

“Saxa, honey? You okay?” Gran’s voice floats up the stairs, soft and concerned.

She knows I’m not okay, of course she does. But she uprooted her whole life for me, and now it’s my turn.

“Yeah, gran. Just getting a little sentimental,” I call back, my voice cracking on the last word.

She appears a few moments later, leaning on the doorframe with that familiar warm smile that almost makes everything feel okay.

“You’re only seventeen, sweet girl. You’ll make new friends. Better ones, maybe.” she says it gently, but I can hear the subtext behind it—she never liked the people I spent time with. She said trouble followed them around like a shadow. And sure, they weren’t saints, but they were my friends. The people who accepted me…

Still, she’s not wrong.

I’ll meet new people, I'll adjust and we’ll start over somewhere new.

But that’s not what’s tearing me up inside, not really.

“Gran,” I whisper, turning to face her. “I’m scared, I know I was just a baby when they died, but this house… it’s the last real connection I have to them. There’s no pictures.. Nothing. Leaving feels like losing the only piece I have left of them…”

She crosses the room and pulls me into her arms, pressing a kiss to the crown of my head.

“Oh, Saxa. the ones we’ve lost… they never really leave us. They live here,” she says, placing a hand gently over my heart. “Their love doesn’t vanish with time. It stays, always.” Her fingers brush the scar across my chest—the one I’ve had since before I can remember. She hugs me tighter, and I let the tears come.

“I’ll try gran,” I whisper. “I promise to try and make it work in Balestrand.”

She smiles against my cheek. “Jeg lover deg at du er bestemt til store ting, og alt vil bli åpenbart for deg i god tid, min lille ulv.”

I blink, once.

“For fucks sake, Gran—I’m never going to survive in Norway. I didn’t understand a single thing you just said to me.”

She just laughs softly.