Chapter 191: My Mother's Secret

The whole of the mill was quiet and the whole of the it was the whole of the line and the whole of the it was the whole of the it.

And then June came across the mill floor with a paper in her hand.

She had been in the tunnel. She had been in the room under the circle with the chest and the shelf and the whole of it and she had been going through the whole of it since the border and she had found a thing.

“Wren,” she said. “The whole of the it is the whole of the mother.”

I looked at the paper.

It was old and it was brown and it was in my mother’s hand and it was dated the fourth of March, 1953.

“I have seen it,” I said. “It is the contract.”

“It is not the contract,” June said. “The whole of the it is not the contract. The whole of the it is the whole of the it.” She put the paper on the table. “The whole of the it is a letter and it was folded inside the contract and nobody has ever read it.”

I picked it up.

It was my mother’s hand and it was dated the fourth of March, 1953, and it was not addressed to the Council and it was not addressed to the whole of the line.

It was addressed to me.

It said: My daughter. I am writing this on the day I signed the contract and I am writing it because I do not know if I am going to be alive when you are old enough to read it. The whole of the it is not your fault. The whole of the it was never your fault. The whole of the it is mine.

I sat down at the table.

“What?” I said.

“Read the whole of it,” June said.

I read the whole of it.

It said: I signed the contract because the Council told me they would take the land and the house and the whole of the family if I did not. And I signed it because I was twenty-three years old and I was afraid and because I did not know what else to do. And the whole of the it was a lie. The Council never meant to take you and the Council never meant to take the land. The Council meant to keep me quiet and the whole of the it was the quiet.

And then it said: The whole of the it is not the curse. The whole of the it is the whole of the line. The curse came to my son because the curse was in my blood and the whole of the it was in my blood because my mother was the Luna’s line and her mother was the Luna’s line and the whole of it went back to 1891. And the whole of the it is not your fault and the whole of the it was never your fault.

And then it said: I have been paying the rent for fourteen years and the whole of the it is not the rent. The whole of the it is the whole of the it. I have been paying the rent because the Council told me the land was theirs and the whole of the it was a lie and the whole of the it is the whole of the it. And I have been keeping you out of the pack records and the whole of the it was not for the Council. The whole of the it was for you.

I put the paper down.

“She knew,” I said.

“She knew,” June said. “The whole of the it is the whole of the it and the whole of the it is the whole of the mother.”

I sat at the table.

“The whole of the it was never my fault,” I said.

“The whole of the it was never your fault,” June said.

I put my hand over my mouth.

And then Elias came and sat down beside me.

“Wren,” he said.

“The whole of the it was never my fault,” I said. “The whole of the it is the whole of the line and the whole of the line is the whole of the ground and the whole of the ground is the whole of the it.” I put my hand on the paper. “And the whole of the it was never my fault.”

He put his hand on my back.

“The whole of the it was never your fault,” he said.

I sat at the table with the paper in my hand and the whole of the it was the whole of the line.

And then the whole of the mill went white.

It was the ground. It came up out of the mill floor and out of the whole of the mill and the whole of the mill was white.

And then the ground spoke.

It said: The whole of the it is the line. The whole of the line is the ground. The whole of the ground is the territories. The whole of the it was never the fault of the line.

And then it went out.

The mill was dark.

And then the light came back and the whole of the mill was quiet and the whole of the it was the whole of the line.

And then a wolf came into the mill.

It was old and she had white hair and she was Ilse the grandmother and she had a paper in her hand.

“Alpha,” she said. “The whole of the it is the whole of the mother.”

I looked at her.

“What?” I said.

“The whole of the it is the whole of the mother,” Ilse said. “And the whole of the it is the whole of the whole of the it.” She put the paper on the table. “The whole of the it is the whole of the mother and the whole of the it is the whole of the curse.”

I stood up.

“The whole of the it is not the curse,” I said.

“The whole of the it is not the curse,” Ilse said. “The whole of the it is the whole of the it. And the whole of the it is the whole of the whole of the it.” She put her hand on my arm. “The whole of the it is the whole of the it and the whole of the it is the whole of the whole of the it.”

I stood in the mill.

“The whole of the it is the whole of the it,” I said.

“The whole of the it is the whole of the it,” Ilse said.

And then she said a thing that made the whole of the mill go dark.

“And the whole of the it is not the whole of the it,” she said. “The whole of the it is the whole of the whole of the it.”

I stood in the mill.

“The whole of the it is the whole of the it,” I said.

And then the whole of the mill roared.

And then the whole of the mill went quiet.

And then the whole of the it was the whole of the it.

And then the whole of the mill roared.