Chapter 4: Midnight Promises and Missing Coins

I slept all day, but it wasn’t on purpose. I had to go see my dad deep in the woods every night.

Dad insisted on nightly check-ins—wolf family tradition. He’d grumble about the cold, but I could tell he missed me.

He’d already issued forty-eight “final warnings.”

Each one more dramatic than the last. “If you don’t come back soon, Savannah, I’ll change the locks! Don’t test me!”

“If you don’t come back soon, I’m telling you, I’ll give all the silver coins in your room to the other wolf pups!”

He knew exactly how to hit where it hurt. I loved those coins—each one a memory, a tiny treasure.

Every night, I’d try to talk him down.

I’d promise him the moon, swear I’d be home soon. He’d grumble, but I could always make him laugh if I tried hard enough.

“I’m coming back soon, I swear, really!”

I’d cross my heart, holding up two fingers, even though he couldn’t see me through the trees.

Once he was happy, I’d sneak back home.

I’d slip through the kitchen window, careful not to wake Caleb, and crawl back into bed before dawn.

So of course, I had to catch up on sleep during the day.

My internal clock was all messed up—nocturnal by nature, I guess. I started to dream in shades of moonlight.

Caleb had no idea. Watching me “unconscious” in bed all day, his frown grew deeper by the day.

He’d hover in the doorway, hands shoved in his pockets, eyes full of worry. Sometimes I could feel his gaze even through my dreams.

Sometimes, in a sleepy haze, I’d sense someone sitting by the bed.

The mattress would dip, and I’d hear him sigh, the weight of the world pressing down on his shoulders.

Caleb’s voice was low. Hard to make out.

He’d mumble to himself, words barely above a whisper, like he was afraid of waking me—or maybe afraid of what he’d say if I answered.

“Savannah, I’m sorry. I can’t give you a good life. I’m not worthy yet…

…Once I pass the civil service exam, I’ll…

…Wait for me, hang in there. I promise I’ll come back for you, proud and successful…”

He’d tuck the blankets around me, brushing a stray hair from my face. His touch feather-light. I never knew he was so gentle.

He’d gently tuck me in, then leave.

The door would click shut, and I’d drift back to sleep, heart aching for reasons I couldn’t quite name.

I was oblivious to all of this.

Most days, anyway. Some nights I’d wake with his words echoing in my head, wondering if I was the one who needed saving after all.

Then one day, after my dad got mad and gave one of my 987 stashed gold coins to a deer spirit, I started to panic. Nine hundred eighty-seven! I’d been counting.

That coin had my initials scratched on the back. The thought of some deer showing it off at the next forest gathering made me break out in a cold sweat.

After Caleb left for the county office one morning, I called the raccoon spirits into the kitchen for an extra meal. I needed backup.

I figured I’d need comfort food to soothe my nerves. The raccoons whipped up a batch of pumpkin soup, thick and sweet, just the way I liked it.

But he came home early. I hadn’t even finished my pumpkin soup before he walked in. My heart nearly stopped.

The door banged open, and I nearly dropped my bowl. Caleb’s boots squeaked on the tile, and he looked more tired than usual. My cheeks burned with embarrassment.

But I still held the pumpkin soup steady.

I raised the bowl in triumph, grinning sheepishly. “Still got it,” I thought, half-proud, half-mortified.

I stammered, “Pumpkin soup… It’s sweet, want to try?” My voice cracked a little.

My voice wobbled, and I tried to look pitiful, hoping he’d buy it.

He thought I was so weak I could barely make it across the room, yet here I was, supposedly dragging myself up to cook him pumpkin soup while he was out. He’d never believe it.

He knelt beside me, concern etched deep into his face. “Savannah, you shouldn’t be up. You need to rest.”

His brows furrowed in worry as he helped me up, pain in his eyes. “Savannah, why are you so silly? You’re still sick!”

He brushed the hair from my face, voice thick with worry. “You don’t have to do this for me.”

I timed it just right and coughed up a bit of fake blood. “…I know I’m dying. You don’t have to worry about me.” Just the way I’d practiced.

With Caleb’s silver bracelet on my wrist, I teared up and recited my lines:

“After I’m gone, throw my body into Maple Creek. Remember, don’t put any clothes on me. I came into this world with nothing, and I want to leave the same way…” The bracelet glinted in the light, a silent reminder of all the things we never said.

Caleb tried to interrupt, but I just tilted my head, shut down all my senses, and fainted dead away.

I let my limbs go limp, heart pounding in my chest. For a second, I wondered if I’d overdone it, but it was too late to turn back now.

So I never heard his cries of grief, or felt his tears fall on my “corpse.”

Maybe it’s better that way. Some goodbyes are too heavy to bear, even for a wolf girl.