Page 13 of Forget Me Not
I pray to whatever gods are listening you take after your father, little fawn, because I could not live with myself if it put you and him in danger.
More than all the stars in the sky,
Mom
Syve let the journal fall to her lap as her face twisted in confusion. She did not think her mom could have left a more cryptic message if she tried. What on Earth could she possibly have been hiding that had gotten her friendskilled?
Lyrics to FRIENDS by Marshmello and Anne-Marie rang out from Syve’s phone, breaking the silence. Quickly digging the device from the pocket of her jeans, she glanced at the screen before laughing out loud. The photo ID was a picture of Aimi flipping off the camera, sticking her tongue out and the name at the top of the screen was ‘Nein, Gunny!’. She was never going to be able to leave her phone unattended around her best friend ever again. Clearing her throat and choking down her laughter she answered the call.
“Hello?”
“Hey Doll,” Gunther drawled. “I need you to do me a favor.”
Syve sighed, rolling her head to the side before answering.
“What can I help you with, Gunther?” she asked dryly.
“I need you to come over—tomorrow, after work.”
“Uh, why?”
“Does a man need a reason to ask a girl to come over? I can throw some chicken on the grill; you can get in the kitchen and whip up some of that onion pasta you always make—”
“Gunther,” Syve interrupted. “I don’teatchicken. And it’s leek, not onion”
“Fine, fine. I’ve got some trout in the fridge. We can have that instead.”
Syve closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She was starting to think this man did not know what being a vegetarian meant.
“Gunther, I have plans with the girls tomorrow night. I’m sorry.”
Gunther sighed dramatically on the other end of the line. “Syve, I’m trying to do you a favor here, but alright,” he relented. “Have a good night with Aims and that tall girl.”
“Cameron,” Syve interjected.
“Sure. I’ll call you later.” He hung up before she could respond.
The rest of her day was spent between cutting fabric, pinning patterns, and reading page after page of her mother’s words. When she finally closed the shop and went upstairs, she had two more designs fully pinned, ready to sew, and she knew absolutely nothing more about her so-called ‘family secret’.
The sound of crunching snow and a soft huff told her the wolf was back in its usual spot— at the foot of Noah’s grave. She still thought it odd that it was there, though she had zero motivation to ask why. It was not like she was going to find one of those ‘dream decrypting’ websites to tell her what a lingering wolf could possibly mean. If it was a bad omen, she would rather not know—not that she had much left to fear from bad luck. Silent as always, her furry companion sat as still as the stones around them and watched her.
After laying against the cold stone long enough for her limbs to feel stiff and numb, she groaned, digging her hooves into the snow to stand. With a quick shake to clear herself of any snow that clung to her coat, Syve moved toward her silver furred companion, or more so the gate behind them. When she stepped past the wolf, she could have sworn shefeltit touch her, a quick brush of its nose as she breezed past. While a part of her noted the sensation as new and intimidating, the rest of her could not be bothered and she kept walking.
It was not until she was stepping into the street that the hairs stood up along her spine, forcing her to glance over her shoulder. The wolf was trailing her, albeit at a distance, but itwasclearly following her nonetheless. Maybe she ought to look into dream reading after all.
Cameron squealed, holding up a small hooded poncho.
“Lord help me, this is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen!”
Syve laughed at her friend as she pulled a similarly sized pair of overalls off of a child-sized dress form. The poncho was made from dark gray cotton duck canvas with a polyester lining and had an additional fleece layer that could be attached with a zipper to add extra warmth for the colder months. It sported a matching, removable hood, and littlearm slits on either side held shut with little, sewn in magnets—strong enough to keep the seam together to ward off the wind, but not so strong as to keep a child from pushing past them to get their arms free. Cameron was right, it was possiblythecutest thing and Syve was incredibly proud of how it turned out.
“Did you notice the pockets?” Syve asked, laughing again when her friend finally found the interior pockets with another bout of squeals. “Kids need pockets…for rocks,” she added with a shrug.
“As soon as you’re done with this application, I’m going to demand a set of these!” Cam squealed again.
“Jesus, Girl, chill!” Aimi chided as she snatched the poncho from Cameron’s hands and set to folding it. “We both know she has to makemean adult sized one first! Bright pink, obviously.” She screeched, ducking when Cam threw one of her boots.
“You two are out of control.” Syve smiled and rolled her eyes at her friends. “I can makeeveryonea ponchoifI get that grant.”
