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150 – Journalist

作者: Polyana Leão
last update 最終更新日: 2025-09-18 05:33:05

The end of the afternoon was already falling when I managed to put the triplets in the room, busy with drawings and assembly blocks. Jimmy tried to convince the brothers that his red pencil dragon was more fierce than the castle that Jody drew, and Jared just wanted to know who would win in the end. The childhood confusion tore smiles from me, but inside, my heart still weighed. Casper had passed earlier, leaving his mark of presence, as always. Lancelot was in the cafe, resisting the city. And I was in the middle of it all.

It was at that moment that someone knocked on the door. Three discreet beats, different from the dry force of Casper. The accelerated heart had no smell. Open slowly.

And there he was, the reporter. "Good afternoon, Naomi." His voice was soft, almost respectful, but something kept me alert.

"You shouldn’t be here." I slammed the door just enough to cover half of his body.

"I know. But I needed to talk to you."

Behind me, I heard the children’s laughter. He noticed
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  • The Price of a Second Chance   172 – Future

    He stared at me. Then he nodded once, slowly. "There’s one more thing," he said, his voice dropping a tone. "The smell. Your smell. Before, he was my anchor. Now he’s also a trigger. It’s too good. It’s like hunger. I know I’m not going to hurt you. I know." He swallowed dry. "But knowing and feeling are two different things."He let the body give in to my hand. I was supporting his weight for a few seconds, like someone holding the trunk of a tree that swings in the wind. Then he straightened, put the blanket back on his shoulders, a gesture almost too human for that day, and stood up. I got up together."I want to show you something." He guided me down the corridor to the iron door on the floor that led to the staircase. The lock inside was still hot from the heat that remained. We went down slowly. The concrete walls had claw marks, yes, but not as deep as I feared. The smell of sweat and stone took everything, and I saw on the ground a semicircle of scratches, like steps that adva

  • The Price of a Second Chance   171 – Changes

    The road to his house was shorter than I remembered, as if the haste had swallowed up the miles. I left the car before the turn, as always, and followed on foot, with the cold wind hitting my face and bringing a smell that cut me inside: smoke, metal, and that rough note of wolf. The gate was half-open. The wood of the porch scratched. I stopped at the first step, took a deep breath, and went up slowly.The door gave in to the touch. The air inside was heavy, a remnant of heat coming from the stove and the breath of someone who did not sleep. I saw the broken frame leaning against the sill, splinters on the floor, and claw marks on the corner of the table. And then I saw him sitting on the steps of the room."Lancelot?""Naomi," he said.Closed the door, went to him, knees in the wood. I wanted to touch it immediately, embrace the pain, and cover the cracks. But first, I let him look at me."I smelled your scent on the road," I whispered. "What happened?"He turned his face only a lit

  • The Price of a Second Chance   170 – Many Thoughts

    The house still smelled of smoke and sweat. The wood of the balcony had claw marks, the handrail was scratched, and fresh memories of what had happened a few hours before. I sat on the steps with my body covered by a blanket and my chest still burning. The sun rose slowly, burning the clouds with shades of orange and gray.The transformation chamber was still locked. I could still smell concrete, dry blood, and trapped wolf. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Casper’s smile. That false calm, that sick pleasure in seeing the chaos he himself caused. He had not come to talk.I ran my hand over my face, feeling the rough beard and hot skin. My body hurt as if I had fought against a wall. The transformations always left a trail of tense muscles, throbbing bones, and the mind trying to reorganize itself between two natures that never accepted each other completely.I took a deep breath, trying to drive away the sound. The cold air came in and burned my lungs, bringing the smell of the fore

  • The Price of a Second Chance   169 – Pain

    I spent the morning fixing one of the pantry windows. My hands hurt, but the pain was welcome. It was simple, concrete. A crooked nail, a splinter in the wood. When I finished, I sat on the balcony chair, watching the smoke rising from the chimney of the most distant houses. And that’s when I heard the engine. Slowly approaching.My body reacted before even the mind understood. The hair on the arm shuddered, and the wolf stood up in the chest, sniffing the air. The smell came with the wind. Casper.The black truck stopped in front of the house. He came out as someone who is not in a hurry, with that damned smile of someone who thinks that the world revolves around his own ego. "Good morning, Lancelot."I stood. I did not answer.He climbed the steps of the balcony with the confidence of those who are at home. "Beautiful place. Simple, but functional. It suits you.""You should go away.""And miss the chance to see the great wolf trying to live like an ordinary man?" he laughed, that

  • The Price of a Second Chance   168 – Myself

    The forest always had a way of calling me. Sometimes with the sound of the wind, sometimes with the smell of wet earth. Today, silence called me. Drove to the quarry and left the car before the turn. I walked the rest on foot, without haste, with the moon lighting the way.The trees leaned as if they wanted to hide me, but nothing could hide what I carried inside. Each step made the ground creak, and the wolf in me moved, impatient, rubbing inside the skin. It was as if I was tired of waiting.I took a deep breath. The air was cold and sharp. That kind of cold that doesn’t hurt, just remember you’re still here. It was not fear of what I could find. It was the fear of what I could become.I stopped in the middle of the clearing. The same place where, days ago, Adrian had forced me to confront the monster. There were still marks on the ground: broken earth, broken stones. Signs of struggle. Signs of me. I touched the ground with my fingertips. Cold.I closed my eyes and heard the sound

  • The Price of a Second Chance   167 – Three Men

    The coffee was too quiet. The clean cups gleamed on the shelves, the smell of fresh coffee still hovering in the air, but no one came to pick them up. The empty tables stared at me, and the chairs, too aligned, seemed to mock my attempt at normality. I already knew that the story had done damage, but I did not imagine that it would be like this.The doorbell rang. Three men came in. The first, fat, with a tattered vest and small eyes; the second, tall, with a strong smell of cigarettes and anger; the third, younger, with the kind of expression that only accompanies those who want to taste something. They did not look at the menu. Nor the tables. Only to me. The air became denser, and the wolf inside me opened his eyes. I felt him wake up there, deep down, with a low, muffled but present growl. I took a deep breath."Coffee?" I asked, trying to sound neutral.The one with the cigarette snorted, crossing his arms. "I think you should be apologizing, not drinking coffee."The fat man too

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