Lone Girl (The Wolfling Saga) (24 page)

“So, why are you sitting by yourself?” I wasn’t sure if it was a rude question or not. “Lone wolf?”

Marcelle shifted uncomfortably.
“I … haven’t been sick as long as the others.”

“You haven’t been a
Werewolf
as long,” I corrected.

She shrugged again. “I was diagnosed with Lycanthropy only fourteen months ago.”

“Diagnosed,” I scoffed. What a load of shit.

Marcelle’s cheeks flushed pink.
“The facility treats Lycanthropy the same as any other disease. It’s nothing more than an illness and they are seeking a cure. The same goes for cancer and aids research.”

“Okay, so the others haven’t accepted you into their pack, or what?”

She stared at me, clearly offended. She picked up her book and stood. “Good luck making friends here,” she snapped, stalking out of the cafeteria. It seemed as though I had pushed Marcelle a little too hard for information.

Wednesday
– 12 days to go

I’d been given my own room; a small beige suite with a single bed and neutral hangings. I was pleased to find my belongings upon the bed; I thought they’d been left in Anna’s car when I’d arrived. Finally I was able to change into clothes I was comfortable with; jeans, a t-shirt, sneakers and a sweater. However, I still did not have access to a cell phone; it appeared they were forbidden.

The patient’s dormitories were separate from the main building; a short walk away along a paved path. The more I saw of the Silver Moon facility the more it reminded me of a university campus. 

I hadn’t spoken to another patient since Marcelle; the other’s avoided my actively like I was diseased, (which I reminded myself, that is exactly what we all were, apparently).

To my surprise the facility offered tutoring for children who could not attend school
and to my sheer delight there was a small library that we had access to throughout the day.

My first morning as an official Silver Moon patient, I waited in the cafeteria for a sign of Tom, but he was nowhere to be seen. I hoped to see him during the mandatory morning exercise, but was annoyed to find we were separated by gender. 

The exercise was gruelling; the women were led by a trainer called Joanna Wright, a ridiculously fit woman in her thirties. She yelled excessively and pushed us mercilessly in the freezing morning temperatures. I was by far one of the worst amongst the other females, unable to do even one push-up. My strength was poor; however I managed to keep up when we were forced to jog around the perimeter of the campus. 

At the end of the hour I was red-faced and out of breath
but I felt good about myself. I’d never taken part in gym class in high school; it was far too embarrassing and I’d almost always be teased about something.

With the morning exercise complete I found myself anxiously
waiting for lunch when I hoped to see Tom in the cafeteria. Until that time I picked up a book from the library and sat under a large tree in the grounds, rugged up in a thick woollen coat to shield myself from the cold. I was mentally submerged in a novel when I was disturbed by a small child, watching me from behind another tree.

I tried to ignore the little girl, who had steadily been edging closer every few minutes, thinking I hadn’t noticed her.
By the time she was only a few feet away I closed my book and placed it in my lap, waiting.

She poked her head out from behind a tree. “Hi,” she said in a tiny voice.

“Hi,” I replied.

“What’s your name?” she asked.

“Rose. What’s your name?”

“Lacey.”

“That’s a pretty name.”

The child stepped out from behind the tree, her hands clasped behind her back. She was dark skinned with
a head of tight black ringlets pulled into pigtails.

“How old are you?” I asked.

“Nine,” she said, scuffing her shoe into the grass. “How old are you?”

“Eighteen.”
I was overwhelmed with an incredible sadness as I looked at this child who was the same age I had been when I was turned. She was so tiny; so innocent and fragile.  Had I been that small once?

Lacey smiled. “Nine is half of eighteen.”

“It is. Very good,” I said softly. “Look, kid, I’m a little busy right now. Where’s your Mom?”

“She’s dead,” Lacey said simply.

I closed my eyes and cursed myself. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” She stepped closer to me, dancing on her tiptoes through the frosty grass. “I don’t remember her. Where’s
your
Mom?”

I frowned. “I don’t know. In Salem, probably.”

“Like the Salem witch trials?” She looked at me sheepishly. “We read about them in lessons.”

I smiled. “No, not
that
Salem. Though she is a bit of a witch.” I wrinkled my nose and Lacey giggled. “What about your Dad?”

Lacey shrugged and crouched, picking up a stick and poking the dirt with it. “I don’t have one.
Do you?”

“Yeah,” I nodded,
“I do.”

“
Where is he?” she asked.

“He’s in California,” I said.

“Your Mom and Dad don’t live together?” She stood and picked up a fallen branch.

“No. They’
re divorced,” I said. “So … are you here on your own? Who looks after you?” I pressed.

Lacey rested the branch on her shoulder like a club. “I have a
teacher.” She shrugged. “But she teaches the other kids too.” I noticed that Lacey found it very hard to stay still; she was constantly swinging her arms or bending her knees, resting her weight on one foot and then the other. I’d never had much experience with children. To be honest, they frightened me a little.

My sympathy for Lacey increased; a mother she didn’t remember and a non-existent father. The only adult figure in her life was a tutor whose attention would be divided amongst the children. I thought I’d had a tough childhood with distracted parents. This child had no parental figures.

“What do you do for fun?” I asked, trying to turn the conversation towards something more cheerful.

“Um, I like drawing,” Lacey said slowly, stepping closer and dragging the branch along the ground. “And reading. And climbing trees. But Misses Goul tells us not to climb.”

“Yeah? Is that your teacher?” 

Lacey nodded and crouched beside me. “What are you doing?” she asked, touching my book.

“Just … just doing a bit of reading.”

“What are you reading?”

Do children always ask so many questions?
I thought, showing Lacey the cover. “Can you read it?”

“Pride and – and – Pride and Pre-
juice
?”

“Prejudice,” I corrected.

“What does pre-pre-
prejudice
mean?”

I smiled. “It means … judging someone based on who or what they are … without knowing all the facts.”

“Like us?” Lacey plucked several blades of grass from the ground, avoiding eye contact.

“What do you mean?” I narrowed my eyes, studying her.

“Misses Goul says we’re here because we’re different, because no one likes us and they want us hidden away. She said that’s why my Dad didn’t want me; because of my sickness. But he just didn’t understand – he didn’t know all the facts. Right?”

My heart wrenched painfully in my chest. “Misses Goul said that to you?”

“She told all of us that Silver Moon is the only place that understands – that will look after us.”

“Is that so?” I chewed the inside of my cheek.
Perhaps I should talk to more staff at Silver Moon to find out what’s really going on.

However, Lacey had moved on to another topic of conversation. “Do you have a boyfriend?” she asked, picking strips of bark from the tree-trunk.

“Um,” I felt my cheeks flush pink as I realized I didn’t know the answer to that question. “I – I don’t know.”

“Is that why you’re so sad?” she asked.

“I’m not … do I seem sad to you?” Her uncanny ability to ask increasingly awkward questions was remarkable.

“I can always tell when someone is sad,” she said matter-of-factly. “Or when they’
re happy. Anything, really. Professor Colt says it’s my gift.”

My mind raced.
“What else did he say?”

“
He said I’m special. Different.” Lacey said happily. “My friend says you’re Mr Stone’s girlfriend. Is that true?”

“It … well, it used to be, I guess.”

“Did he break up with you?”

“Uh, yeah I guess so,” I said, my throat tight.
I looked down at my shoelaces.

“
Do you love him?” she whispered dramatically.

I closed my eyes and sighed. “Do you always ask so many questions
, kid?”

Lacey smiled and touched my shoulder. “Don’t worry. I know he still loves you.”

“Yeah?” I chuckled
. She’s all right, I guess.
“And how do you know that?”

“
I spoke to Mr Stone before they put him away. I talk to everyone when they arrive.”

“
Mhh? What did you talk about?”

Lacey sighed dramatically. “He didn’t want to talk to me. He was
nice, but
really
sad – I could feel it. It made me sad, too. But he mentioned you.”

My heart
tensed. “He did? What did he say?”

Lacey dug in the dirt with a stick. “I’m not supposed to tell anyone,” she said sheepishly. “He asked me not to tell.”

“But if it was about me, then it doesn’t count, right?” I pressed eagerly.

Lacey glanced at me nervously. “I
suppose
,” she said slowly. “But don’t tell him I told you, okay?”

“I promise.”

Lacey held out her pinkie. “Pinkie promise?”

“
Pinkie promise,” I confirmed, curling my finger around hers.

She smiled and bit her bottom lip, looking around to make sure no one was eavesdropping.

“I asked him if he had a girlfriend and he said ‘yes’. So I asked where she was and he said ‘far away’. I said that if I had a boyfriend I wouldn’t want him to be far away, that I’d want to be with him all the time.”