Page 23 of Blood Moon
The blood was on my hands. There was no use hiding it.
Article V, Lost Letters from Aadan the First
Dawn came quickly.
It was Saturday, and I lay in bed, thinking of all that transpired. Julian, my mother, the wall of Bobby’s findings. It drew another question: How could he trust her and grieve her absence if he thought for a single second that she could be involved?
And if she was involved, why would she warn me?
I stayed there, wrapped in a protective cocoon, looking at the pictures I took of Bobby’s collage, zooming in and out of the images and documents I’d already read, willing them to reveal new information somehow.
Even with the red line stringing pieces of it together, it seemed indecipherable.
There had to be more, a crucial piece I’d overlooked.
And Julian. He was strong. Incredibly fast. He saved my life, and still, he couldn’t tell me everything I wanted to know.
But I’m under oath. I can’t say anything.
He’d whispered it with a stillness about him.
I remembered the hopelessness I felt, the cracking in my voice, how it made me feel slighted.
Had I not been in shock, had there not been a sense of urgency to get out of the woods, I would have pressed him harder.
And I wanted to, even now, but due to his absence, I simply had to wait it out.
I willed myself out of bed, threw on some sweats, and left the dorm. I had breakfast in the dining hall with my friends before they left for practice. Today was the big day: the first football game of the season, and the first dance performance of the year.
“I’m gonna be sick,” Em said, pushing her eggs to the side of her plate.
“She’s nervous about performing,” Abi said to me and Stevie, her eyes on her phone as she scrolled. “But she’s always nervous.” She poked Em in the side. “Pull it together, Em.”
Em rolled her eyes, and Abi smacked her lips. She set her phone down to hold Em by the shoulders, looked her square in the face. “Emmeline, do you need a xanny?”
“No,” Em groaned, the palms of her hands pressing into her forehead. She slumped into Abi’s arms like a princess in distress.
Stevie reached a hand across the table. “Em, you can’t let this shit get to you. How long have we been practicing this routine?”
“A few weeks.”
“And how long have you been dancing?” Stevie probed.
“My whole life,” she mumbled, slightly raising her head from Abi’s embrace.
“You can do this routine in your sleep,” Abi added, and she tried patting Em’s back, but even from across the booth, I took in how Em’s brows knitted together in confusion at the out-of-character gesture.
“You’re going to do great,” I said because at this point, my lack of words would be strange. But it was true. I’d seen their routine. It was remarkable.
“See, we all believe in you,” Stevie whispered, and when she moved again, I could smell the lavender and eucalyptus on her skin.
She had an entire growing collection of oils and crystals.
While it was a practice I didn’t understand, it brought a sense of peace.
There was something to be said about it because, since her collection had grown, I hadn’t seen a single set of glaring eyes from the window.
“We’ll work on some breathing techniques,” Stevie said. “But trust me, I know you’ve got this.”
Abi took a long, deep breath that eventually turned into her snorting. Em moved away, confused. “ What? ” Abi mocked. “Stevie said it better than me … but that was basically what I meant.”
We laughed, shoulders bumping side to side, a core memory forming between us. These girls were the perfect slice of what college should be, but consuming me was the aching pull of everything else.
The four of us shared a long hug before I saw them off. I wished them luck and shouted reminders to stay hydrated before heading for Hester Hall. On the way, Bobby responded to my text:
Sure thing. I should have set something up sooner.
Sorry about that, bug.
How about a Sunday brunch for old time’s sake?
I exhaled for what felt like the first time all week. It meant soon I’d get answers, and that was what I desperately needed.
Naomi came over around noon with an oversized bag in hand and bubbly sunglasses that framed her heart-shaped face. We’d made plans to get ready for the football game together.
She placed her tote on the table in the living area and pulled out bags of chips and candy, declaring I take one, an offer I couldn’t refuse. I decided on the sweet and sour gummy things.
The afternoon light dashed through the room as I pulled back the curtains, illuminating the cinder block walls and posters.
Behind it, the ominous forest. Even with golden beams sifting through the leaves, it still seemed inundated with darkened shadows.
My stomach folded in on itself as I remembered the strangeness of the hiker, those red orbing eyes, the piercing sound of their cries during the animal attack.
And the fall … How long would Death remind me that I’d cheated?
‘Til the last breath left my body, perhaps.
I swallowed the ache to ditch everything to go for a run. I would have been better for it. So much better. Instead, I cleared my desk, drowned out the piercing screams that echoed within, and sat next to Naomi.
“My auntie was hesitant to let me stay over tonight,” Naomi said, toning her face with a cotton round.
I pulled a tweezer from my makeup bag and plucked at a hair on my brow. “Why? You go to school here.”
She paused to stare at me. “ And I’m an adult, you know.”
I snorted. “That part, too.”
“But she was all, ‘wah, the animal attacks.’ ”
My chest tightened. “Didn’t you say she thought it was a person?” I probed, remembering the story Naomi had mentioned a few days back.
She lifted her brows as she slid on her headband and grabbed for her moisturizer. “Exactly. And I brought that up, too.”
“ And …” I said with impatience, forcing myself to dig for the connections. I needed to relax. I reset myself, breathed easily through my nostrils. “What did she say?”
“Well, it didn’t help that she saw the email from the school, so it went how you’d expect it would go.”
“ What email?” I scrambled for my phone.
“Oh, you haven’t seen it yet?” She’d said it so casually as she pulled out her foundation; she was oblivious to my reaction.
The email sat in my inbox, highlighted in bold.
Not only did it state that the trails were closed for the remainder of the fall semester, but it also detailed the attack that had occurred on the trail.
Julian had reported it, just as he’d promised.
I felt the panic in my bones, my jaw locking in fear.
I leaned forward, a warmness trekking up my throat.
“I can’t believe someone was attacked here,” Naomi continued.
“And it’s strange that no one really noticed or heard anything.
I didn’t see a single police car or ambulance.
You’d think the news would be here. My auntie believes it was a shapeshifter—that it’s someone who has the ability to disguise themselves as a human … a werewolf.”
I sighed deeply, returned to my seat. “Does she really think that?”
“Of course she does. It’s the area, you know.
People are obsessed with the lore, and to an extent, I get it.
Sometimes, when you’re afraid, you need a reason to believe in something—even if it isn’t real.
It gives meaning to a terrible situation.
That’s how the earth spins, right? Community, connection.
All of it. I wouldn’t be surprised if my auntie’s friends casually brought it up while they were working out at the Y.
They said the same thing happened a few years back. ”
My voice trailed. “Yeah …” I said, remembering the group of protesters on the news. The End Is Near , one of the signs had said, and I couldn’t help but contemplate how true that might be.
But even then, I didn’t remember the townies being so adamant or outright the last time something like this had happened.
Sure, I was aware of some of the comments I’d see on posts and whispers from people at school, but they weren’t as loud as they were now.
They weren’t standing outside of crime scenes with signs, cautioning us to be prepared .
I wondered if they really did see something—otherwise, why the concern?
A smirk appeared on Naomi’s face. “But you don’t believe in that, right, Mira?”
My gaze flitted from her, and I picked up my sponge.
I didn’t know what I believed anymore. Deep inside, I knew werewolves didn’t exist, but the recent incidents felt too concurrent.
The people in the town wouldn’t be as riled up as they were now.
Abba had said the reason the lore was so deep-seated here was because someone had seen it happen—they’d seen the werewolves—and they believed it enough to make sure the whole town knew.
Was it possible that some of the townspeople were foolish to believe in tall tales, or could there be truth hidden in the cracks?
“No,” I said hesitantly, unsure if I’d told a lie, but Naomi shook her head and squinted her eyes.
“You Kansas Citians are something else.” She laughed, and I knew my own faltering caused her to poke fun at me. It was simply that the legends here felt like more than a kid’s bedtime story now, and I wasn’t sure how to reason with that.
Then it dawned on me.
Bobby had been tracking the cycles of the moon. Each phase lain out, a string threading them together. Was it possible he believed in the legends, too?