Page 83 of Who Let The Wolves Out?

We’re here.

The last day.

Around me, kids are hauling duffel bags toward the bus loop. Ferix is dragging his with one hand and a smuggled jar of peanut butter in the other. Rubi’s wearing three backpacks—one on her front like a shield. Nolan’s tucked under the eaves of the crafts shed, sketching something furiously in his notebook, like he’s trying to press the whole summer into paper before it’s gone.

And me?

I feel like I’m balancing on the edge of something too big for my chest.

Jason walks up beside me, quiet, steady, like he always is when he knows I’m thinking too hard.

“Hey,” he says.

“Hey,” I whisper back.

We watch the kids a moment longer.

Then he nods toward the amphitheater. “Closing ceremony’s starting soon. You ready?”

I nod. But I don’t move.

Because if I move, it means it’s almost over.

And I’m not quite ready to let go.

The amphitheater is buzzing when we get there, but it’s the kind of buzz you feel in your ribs. Not loud—just full. Full of emotion. Full of unsaid things.

Hazel’s on stage, of course. Delivering a farewell speech like a seasoned politician.

“Next year,” she declares, “I want a bigger potion shelf, less cabin curfews, and an ice cream golem. Make it happen.”

The crowd laughs, and behind me, Julie’s quietly wiping her glasses.

One by one, each cabin gives their goodbye. The youngest kids sing a song that dissolves halfway through into giggles. The werebat campers perform a synchronized swoop, wings flapping proudly. Nolan steps up and reads a short poem—soft, stumbling, but honest.

My throat tightens.

I glance around at the other counselors. Zak’s dabbing at his eyes with a leaf. Ryder’s actually smiling. Jason’s standing still beside me, arms crossed, eyes glinting with something quiet and proud.

Then someone hands me the mic.

I blink. “Wait, me?”

Julie nods from the back row. “You’re one of us now.”

I step up on stage, hands trembling a little. The sun’s angled low over the lake, catching in the trees, setting everything on fire with light.

“I…”

I clear my throat.

“I didn’t know what I’d find here,” I begin, voice a little too small for the amphitheater until it isn’t. “Honestly, when I showed up this summer, I didn’t even know who Iwasanymore.”

A few kids nod. Julie tilts her head, watching me with kind eyes.

“I was hurting,” I continue, swallowing thickly. “I was trying to outrun something that had broken me. And I thought if I just... stayed quiet enough, small enough, I could sneak through the world without getting hurt again.”

My eyes flick to Jason for just a second. He’s watching me like I hung the stars.

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