Page 73 of Who Let The Wolves Out?

A life that feels like mine.

I walk out toward the rec field where Jason’s helping Ferix and two other campers stack wood for the bonfire. He’s got a twig in his hair, a sunburn across one shoulder, and a grin like he knows something about the world nobody else does.

And I realize, I’m not thinking about Sam.

I’m not wondering what he’s doing, who he’s with, or if he’s still posting perfect brunch photos with someone else’s hand on his coffee mug.

I haven’t thought about him indays.

Not with longing.

Not even with bitterness.

Just… nothing.

He’s a shadow I walked through.

And Jason?

Jason is sunlight.

“Hey,” he calls, waving me over. “Your dragon child’s trying to set kindling on fire with his eyes again.”

Nolan grins sheepishly and points at a twig. “It’skindaworking.”

Jason raises an eyebrow. “No burns, no foul.”

I shake my head, but my chest is warm as I cross the field and sit in the grass beside them.

Ferix leans into me. “Miss Alice, are you staying next summer?”

I glance at Jason, then back to the kid. “Yeah. I am.”

His face lights up. “Cool. We need someone to make the good slime.”

Jason snorts. “I knew it was about slime.”

But I don’t care what it’s about.

Because hearing that question—and answering it without hesitation—feels like a victory I didn’t know I was waiting for.

I’m staying.

Forme.

Not because I’m running.

But because I’ve found something worth holding onto.

That night, as the sky turns dusky and kids start gathering for the bonfire, I sneak into our cabin to grab my sweater. The one Jason says makes me look like a cozy hedgehog.

I spot my journal on the windowsill—half-filled, bent at the corners. A few weeks ago, it was all questions.

Who am I without him? What do I want?

Tonight, I don’t have to write the answers.

Ifeelthem.

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