As Sheila sat in one of the stools present in the kitchen, her mind drifted to thoughts of her absent daughter, Emma, who was far away in another country, in another continent.
She hadn’t met Emma yet, as she had been in a coma for all these years, but she couldn’t help but worry about her. She couldn’t help the motherly twinge of anxiousness that filled her heart even for a child she hadn’t known.
By morning, Emma would be undergoing her shift, and Sheila couldn’t shake the feeling of unease gnawing at her.
Would Prescott do his job well?
The ancients had sung the squirrel’s praises and all, but she couldn’t help the unease buckling up her heart.
What kind of shift would Emma undergo?
Her daughter wasn’t a normal werewolf after all. She was a combination of sorts, a combination they still hadn’t a clue about. So, would Prescott handle it?
Sheila sighed.
Somehow she knew that Emma was the oldest of her three children, and from what she had heard, the latter was quite stubborn. It made her wonder if Emma would be receptive to her like Freya and Lucille had been.
Would Emma understand who she was, and the love she held for her, despite their physical distance, despite their unfamiliar familiarity?
The rise of worry in Sheila’s heart was palpable as she thought about Emma navigating the world on her own, thousands of miles away from home. She wished she could be there to protect her, to guide her through life’s challenges, but she was confined to this pack until tomorrow and next, unable to do anything but worry.
As Sheila’s thoughts turned to Emma’s shift tonight, she couldn’t help but imagine all the possible dangers and obstacles Emma might face. What if something went wrong? What if Emma found herself in harm’s way and she wasn’t there to help? What if the enemies waited by the side for her weakest moment to carry her off?
Shifts were painful, more painful than hybrids. Sheila knew because she was one. And in that painful moment, she had been the weakest, anything could have happened at that moment, and she wouldn’t have been able to bat an eyelid. No, her entire focus would be on alleviating the pain somehow.
So, what if something of that nature happens to Emma?
She sent a plea to the goddess. Also said a short prayer for Prescott. That whatever the squirrel was, he would protect her daughter till they were united.
She prayed also that Emma would be safe tonight, that she would navigate her shift without any hitch.
Sheila sighed. She longed to see her daughter’s face, to hold her in her arms and tell her how much she loved her.
She couldn’t entertain the fall of disappointment that washed over her the next second as she realized that she may never have the chance to meet Emma, to see her grow into the strong, independent woman she knew she could be, if things went awry tonight and tomorrow.
It was a bitter pill to swallow, knowing that she had missed out on so much of Emma’s life, but Sheila refused to let despair consume her.
Instead, she clung to the hope that Prescott would come through for her daughter, that one day, she would be reunited with Emma.
Until then, she prayed for strength and resilience, for the courage to face whatever challenges lay ahead. For her, and for her daughters.
Melvina stood by the kitchen cooker, watching Sheila, handling a spatula that had stopped doing its duty because its handler’s mind wasn’t on it, rather on other issues.
She knew that her friend had ghosted her, and had gotten her mind centered on other matters.
Melvina had a feeling that it was about Emma.
Melvina dropped the spatula on the kitchen table, and sank into a stool, the weight of her earlier decisions heavy on her mind. She couldn’t help but replay the events that had led to Emma’s expulsion from the pack, and the guilt ate at her heart like a relentless beast.
Since the day she had met Emma, Melvina had been torn between her instincts and her loyalty to her husband, who had made the foolish decision to chase Emma out of the pack. She knew deep down that it was wrong, that she should have followed her gut and stood up for Emma, but fear and uncertainty had clouded her judgment.
As she reflected on her actions, Melvina couldn’t help but wonder why she had allowed herself to be swayed by her husband’s unwise act. She had always prided herself on being strong and independent, yet when it came to Emma, she had faltered.
Melvina sunk her head into her hands as she remembered Emma’s face when Derek had issued the order for her to leave the pack.
The rise of regret washed over her as she realized the impact her decisions had had on Emma’s life. She knew that Sheila blamed her for what had happened, and Melvina couldn’t blame her. She had failed to protect Emma, to stand up for her when she needed it most, and she would carry that guilt with her for the rest of her days.
She only hoped that they found the girl. Their savior. The likely solution to this battle.
Yet amidst the regret, there was also a glimmer of hope in Melvina’s heart. She knew that she couldn’t change the past, but she could learn from her mistakes and strive to do better in the future. She was determined to make amends, to repair the rift between her and Sheila, and to seek forgiveness for her actions. Even though, so far, it hasn’t been working.
When Sheila had followed her to the kitchen, she had thought that perhaps the latter was keen on making amends, was keen on forgiving her, but her expectations had been cut short.
Their talks, their communication had been hitched, filled with rough patches and unsaid words, unlaughed laughs. It was that which broke her heart the more. That the smoothness of their relationship was gone.
Yet she was wise to know that Sheila’s blame on her for what had happened to Emma was validated. And she couldn’t blame her friend for that. She had failed to see the signs after all, had failed to recognize Emma for who she truly was even with the red hair, and she couldn’t help but wonder if she had been manipulated into letting her son disregard Emma like that.
Melvina inhaled deeply and lifted her head up.
The self loath was over now. Enough. She would only think about solutions, about how to revive her relationships with Sheila and her daughter. And she made a vow to herself to never again let fear dictate her decisions, to always follow her instincts and stand up for what was right.
She knew that it wouldn’t be easy, but she was willing to do whatever it took to make things right with Sheila and to seek forgiveness for her past mistakes.
It was at that moment that she looked at Sheila, that their eyes met.
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry.”
Both chuckled.
“What are you sorry for?”
“What in the world could you be sorry for?”
Another chuckle.
“You know what? Go first.” Sheila said, picking one of the cookies from the plate which Melvina had handed to her earlier.
When the sweetness melted in her mouth, she sighed in satisfaction and remembrance. How could she have forgotten that her best friend was the best cook she has ever met?
“You still make the best cookies.”