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33 – Kisses
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2025-07-19 00:05:23“I blame myself, Casper,” I said. “I shouldn't have hidden their existence from you. I shouldn't have distanced myself. They should have grown up with a father; life would be totally different. I can't even say how we would be today if I had done the right thing. The truth is, I put myself before them,“ I said, almost crying. ”I put myself first; I put my suffering ahead of their needs. I condemned them, Casper. If I had done the right thing, maybe they would be with us now,” I said, venting. He came up to me and hugged me.
“Leave the past in the past, Naomi. I made a lot of mistakes back then, too. Some are only being reflected now. I'm paying for my bad decisions now,” he said. “The first step to moving forward is to admit what happened, and the second is to do everything you can to improve. I think we're both doing that,“ he said, comforting me. ”It's been a very stressful day,“ he said. ”Let's go
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The Price of a Second Chance 137 – Not Today
The night never brings me rest. No matter how exhausted the body may be, the mind remains active. I lay listening to the wolf scratch against the bars, remembering every look, every camera that blinked at me during the day. Sometimes I think even my dreams already have headlines.I woke up before the sun again, not for discipline, but for not being able to endure the silence of the morning. I made coffee for myself, the bitter taste reminding me that I was still alive. Then I went to open the cafeteria, more for stubbornness than for any hope.When the bell rang for the first time that morning, he was not a customer. He was not a provocateur. It was he. The long coat, the leather paste, the look fixed as if it was going through my skin."Black coffee, no sugar."The same words, the same code. But this time there was something different. His rhythm was not that of yesterday nor that of the day before yesterday. It was someone who came prepared to go further.I prepared the coffee in si
The Price of a Second Chance 136 – Return
I did not expect to see you again.I thought it was just another face among so many, different, yes, but still transient. He had gone out the door, leaving behind those words that stuck: "If you do not speak, they will continue to write for you."I thought it had ended there. That he would leave, write something, or give up, and that was it. But that night, as I closed the cafeteria, I still heard his voice echoing next to the scratch of the wolf inside me.It dawned, and the cycle began again: whispers outside, cameras waiting for any movement, and customers who came in more to see the monster than to drink coffee. My routine was no longer routine; it was a spectacle.And then, when the doorbell rang for the second time that day, there he was. The same long coat, the same worn leather folder. The same fearless look."A black coffee, no sugar."The same words. Almost like a code.This time, my voice did not come out hoarse. It came out rough, crossed by tiredness. "You came back."He
The Price of a Second Chance 135 – Reporter
The kettle hissed again. The repetitive sound was almost hypnotic, as if mocking my attempt to maintain normality in the midst of chaos. A piece of routine survived while everything around crumbled.The cameras were still outside. Always outside. I had already gotten used to the brief flash of flashes through the glass, but not with the feeling of being constantly watched. Every sip of coffee, every breath, every time he blinked, someone recorded.The doorbell rang, and by reflex, my whole body moved.This time, it was not a rushed customer, nor derided teenagers, nor curious merchants. A man came in, tall and thin, with a coat too long for the heat of the day. Carried a worn leather briefcase, such as real journalists still use when they want to look serious. The smell was neither of provocation, nor of alcohol, nor of exaggerated fear. It was neutral.He walked to the counter without rushing, and for a moment, I thought it was just another curious one, another ready to film me up cl
The Price of a Second Chance 134 – Visits of interest
The silence inside me never lasts. There is always a noise, a snap, an insistent scratch that reminds me that I am not only a man. Today, this noise was louder because it came from outside as well.The whole city seemed to have decided to speak at once. Headlines, glances, whispers, cameras. I didn’t need to see to know: it was stamped everywhere. Monster. Again.I arrived early at the café, earlier than usual. I wanted to prepare everything before the first customers showed up. Perhaps, unconsciously, he wanted to enjoy a few minutes of peace before the storm fell again.I put the water to boil, lined up the cups, and organized the coffee packets as if each were a single piece. An invisible trench against the world. The noise of the kettle was the only thing that sounded normal.The doorbell rang. The first customer. It was a woman with a child in her hand. She came in looking sideways, as if every corner hid danger. The boy pulled her sleeve, curious, but she held him firmly, almost
The Price of a Second Chance 133 – Yes, It’s The Plan
"Why is it so important to you that he lose control?" she insisted.Smile. Not the broad smile that delivers weakness, but the small one, the restrained one, leaving the other without knowing whether it is facing a threat or a confidence."Because his control is an illusion, Naomi."She frowned, straightening. "You didn’t answer my question.""I answered yes. Just not with the words you’d like to hear."I took a slow step to the table, picked up one of the newspapers, and stood in front of it. The title shouted in red: "Families demand safety." The blurred photo showed Lancelot’s face in the midst of the transformation, wild eyes captured at the perfect moment."Look at that. Do you really think I need to invent something? I just showed her the city that she’s seen with her own eyes. Lancelot doesn’t need me to take him down. He does it alone every time the monster escapes."She narrowed her lips but did not look away. I admired that strength in her, even when it was against me."You
The Price of a Second Chance 132 – More And More
The next day brought exactly what I had asked.The headlines were sharper, the texts more poisonous. "Cafeteria at risk of interdiction," "Population demands security," "Families do not want monsters serving their children." The term was repeated in bold letters: monsters, monsters, monsters. The word no longer needed my whisper. Now she walked alone, laden in the mouths and hurried fingers of the city.Sat down at the table, spreading newspapers like a feast. An orchestra of fear and repulsion playing exactly the music I composed.The social networks ignited. Short videos showing only seconds of the scene, always hand-picked: eyes shining, body half bent, animal breath. The whole context was gone. It didn’t matter if Lancelot had stopped before he killed. What was left was the image frozen in the instant he seemed to be about to tear someone apart.It was perfect.Meanwhile, the phone wouldn’t stop. Assessors, journalists, and entrepreneurs—all wanting to confirm details, all eager t
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