Page 32 of Who Let The Wolves Out?

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

He smiles, soft and sad. “Too late. But it’s okay. I’d rather know the real you than be fed a version that’s safe.”

My chest aches.

Jason exhales. “I’ll give you space. Just... don’t lie to me, alright?”

“I won’t.”

He nods once. Then leaves.

And I stand there in a cabin full of glitter, finally letting myself cry.

Later that evening, after the kids have been tucked in and the counselors are busy corralling leftover costumes and marshmallow debris, Julie pulls me aside.

She’s holding her clipboard—always—and wearing that bright, enthusiastic camp director smile that makes her look ten years younger than she probably is.

“Got a second?” she asks, her voice soft but purposeful.

I nod, brushing invisible lint off my sweater. “Sure.”

She leads me over to the porch steps outside the office. We sit. It’s quiet, save for a distant owl and the hum of tired generators.

“I’ve been watching you this session,” she says.

I shift awkwardly. “Oh?”

“You’re a natural, Alice. The way you handled the talent show. The fire drills. The way the kids look at you like you’re the one holding the stars together.”

My face goes hot. “That’s generous.”

She shakes her head. “It’s accurate. You’ve brought heart to this place. Structure, yes—but also grace. And patience. Things that don’t come with training manuals.”

I don’t know what to say to that, so I just smile tightly.

Julie exhales and turns toward me fully. “We’re expanding next summer. More programs. More permanent positions. I’d like you to consider coming on full-time. Year-round staff, as the official activities coordinator. Paid.”

The wordpaidrings like a bell in my ears.

Full-time.

This place, every day. Not just for a few chaotic weeks.

It should be a no-brainer. It’s stability. Purpose. Kids who look up to me. A place where Imatter.

But the weight in my chest doesn’t feel like certainty.

It feels like... fear.

Julie watches me for a moment, reading something in my silence.

“No rush,” she says kindly. “Think about it.”

I nod, throat tight. “I will.”

She pats my hand and disappears into the office, leaving me alone under the porch light, holding this shiny new offer like a stone I’m not sure how to carry.

CHAPTER 12

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