Slater
I left the restroom and headed back outside. There was a small convenience store attached to the gas station. I bought a plain grey hoodie off the rack and a baseball cap. I put them both on.
Now I looked like any other young guy with a forgettable face.
I rechecked my phone. The train station was about a mile away. I could walk there easily.
As I walked, I paid attention to the humans around . They moved differently from wolves. They are less aware of their surroundings, more caught up in their own thoughts. They stared at their phones, listened to music through headphones, and talked about mundane things like grocery shopping and TV shows.
No one paid any attention. I was just another person on the street.
The train station was small and old-fashioned, with a wooden platform and a ticket booth that looked like it hadn’t been updated in decades. An elderly woman sat in the booth, reading a romance novel.
"One ticket to Millbrook, please," I said, pulling out cash.
She looked up at over her reading glasses. "Round trip or one way?"
"Round trip."
"That’ll be twelve dollars."
I handed her the money. She gave my ticket and went back to her book without another word.
The train arrived fifteen minutes later—a small, regional thing with only four cars. I boarded and found a seat near the window. A few other passengers were scattered throughout the car—a mother with two young children, an old man with a newspaper, a woman in a business suit typing on her laptop.
The train lurched into motion.
I watched the landscape roll by—fields, forests, small towns. Everything looked peaceful and boring.
I wondered if Riley was happy here. If she’d been able to heal after going through those terrible ordeals.
A teenage boy sitting across from pointed at the scar on my forearm. "Cool tattoo, dude."
I smiled faintly. "Thanks."
"Got it for the festival?" he asked.
"What festival?"
"The one in Millbrook! You should go. It’s like the highlight of the year. Everyone dresses up as mythical creatures—vampires, wolves, that kinda stuff." He grinned. "Even the teachers join in."
My heart skipped. Millbrook. That was the town Riley was in. Was this a sign from the goddess herself that I would have a fruitful journey?"
The ride took about forty minutes. When we pulled into Millbrook station, I got off and rechecked my phone.
Millbrook Elentary School was about half a mile away, within walking distance.
I made my way through the small downtown area. Millbrook was quaint; the kind of place with local shops, a diner, a library, and a park in the centre of town. People smiled and nodded as they passed. It felt like a place where everyone knew everyone.
The kind of place where a newcor would stick out.
Unless that newcor had been here for years and built a life. Like Riley.
I found the school easily. It was a single-story brick building with a playground out front. A sign announced: "Millbrook Elentary: Ho of the Bears."
But sothing was off. There were way more people than I expected. Cars filled the parking lot. People stread through the front gate—families, kids, adults.
I stopped soone walking past —a man in his thirties carrying a toddler.
"Excuse ," I said. "What’s going on?"
He looked at like I was an idiot. "The festival? The Harvest Moon Festival? It’s today."
"Oh. Right. The festival."
"It’s the biggest event of the year," he continued, adjusting his grip on his kid. "The school does this whole supernatural the. Werewolves, vampires, the whole nine yards. They set up a haunted house, hold costu contests, and put on these cool displays. It’s great for the kids."
I felt my stomach twist. A supernatural-thed festival. With werewolf displays. At my sister’s school.
The irony was almost painful.
"Where do I get tickets?" I asked.
"At the gate. Ten dollars for adults, five for kids."
"Thanks."
I walked toward the gate and bought a ticket from a volunteer. A cheerful woman in a witch costu. She handed a wristband and told to have fun.
The school grounds had been completely transford. Decorations hung everywhere, filled with fake cobwebs, carved pumpkins, strings of lights shaped like bats and moons. Booths were set up selling food, gas, and crafts. A small stage had been erected where soone was performing magic tricks.
And in the centre of it all was a large display labelled "Myths and Legends: The World of Werewolves."
I walked over, half-amused, half-curious.
The display had information boards about werewolf folklore—transformation during full moons, silver bullets, and pack hierarchies. So of it was surprisingly accurate. Most of it was nonsense.
There was even a person in a werewolf costu doing poses for photos with kids.
I almost laughed. If they only knew.
But where was Riley?
I walked around the festival grounds, scanning faces. Teachers were everywhere—helping with gas, supervising activities, and talking to parents. But I didn’t see my sister.
I made my way toward the school building itself. Maybe she was inside.
I stood by the gymnasium entrance, looking around, feeling suddenly lost. There were so many people. How was I supposed to find one person in all this chaos?
My palms were sweaty. I’d imagined this mont a thousand tis, but now that it was here, I wasn’t sure what I’d say.
"Excuse ? Need help finding soone?"
A voice sounded behind , so familiar that my heart skipped.
A voice behind . Female, familiar in a way that made my heart skip.
I turned around and everything seed to freeze because standing in front of was no other than my sister, Riley.
She looked different from how I rembered—older, obviously. Her hair was shorter now, cut in a practical bob. She wore glasses that I didn’t rember her having. She was dressed in casual teacher clothes—jeans and a Millbrook Elentary t-shirt, and on the shirt was a na tag ’Emily Sanders’
She was looking at with friendly concern, the way a teacher looks at a lost visitor.
"Do you need help finding sothing?" she asked.
She didn’t recognise .
I’d changed more than I realised in the years since she’d left. I’d been eighteen when she went missing. Now I am almost twenty-one and have changed a lot.
And she’d probably worked hard to forget what anyone from our world looked like.
"I..." My voice ca out rough. I cleared my throat and tried again. "I’m looking for Emily Sanders. Is she around?"
Sothing flickered in her eyes a certain wariness that made want to grab her in my arm and protect her forever "I’m Emily Sanders. What’s this about?"
I pulled off my baseball cap and turned to look at her directly. At that mont, a big guy with muscles ca up to stand next to her. His eyes darted from to my sister.
"I was looking for you all over," the big man said. "Is everything alright?"
Riley nodded, staring at the man with admiration in her eyes. "He seems lost, so I was just trying to find out if everything is alright with him and see if there’s any way I can offer assistance."
"Assistance?" The man turned his attention back to . "Are you in trouble, sir?"
"Not really!" I flashed them a small smile. "I ca here with my friends; I’m just wondering where they all ran off to. We agreed to et by the ice cream stand, and yet there are still no signs of them."
"Oh, do you have their numbers or sothing we could help you find them?"
"Yeah," I nodded. "I’m trying to get reception to call them. It seems to be more here."
The man nodded and leaned down to place a kiss on the bridge of Riley’s nose before asking us to be careful and walking away.
Once again, I was alone with Riley. She turned to a patient smile on her face and at that mont, I threw caution to the wind.
"Hi, Riley," I said quietly. "It’s . Slater."
Her face went white. The clipboard she was holding slipped from her fingers and clattered to the ground.
"No," she whispered. "No, you can’t be here. You can’t—"
"Riley, I’m sorry, I just needed to—"
"You need to leave." Her voice was sharp now and filled with panic. She looked around quickly, checking if anyone was watching us. "Right now. You can’t be here."
"Please, just give five minutes—"
"I left for a reason, Slater." Her eyes were filling with tears. "I built a life here. A normal life. And you can’t—you can’t just show up and—"
She stopped talking. Her eyes went wide, fixed on sothing behind .
I turned to see what she was looking at.
Standing at the edge of the festival grounds, half-hidden in shadow, was a figure. Watching us intently.
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