The final hint of sandalwood and tomato leaves drifted away even as the memory dissipated, and I knew that Brooke had finally faded from the earth. Actually, that wasn’t true. Her letter was still here, along with the words she’d wanted me to have when I was sixteen and she was dying. Whether or not my father was using Brooke’s letter as a means of manipulating me seemed academic now—my sister had been the one who wrote the words, and Brooke always had my best interests at heart. So I tilted my wolf face so I could squint down at the paper and I began to read.
Unfortunately, I could barely make out my older sister’s greeting, and could parse that much only because I knew Brooke would begin her letter “Dearest Terra.” Something about my wolf eyes or my wolf brain made the rest of the missive dissolve into squiggles, and despite waiting for weeks to open the envelope, now that my wolf had done that deed for me, I was desperate to know what Brooke had to say, the sooner the better. But since my shift to wolf form had been involuntary, I wasn’t so sure I could regain my human skin so easily.
I sent the question toward my canine half, and her reply came back quickly. We’ll run later, she conceded, and I almost felt like the sentence was a promised future treat for both of us rather than a deal that I was making with an unwanted darker half. The wolf and I would run later, and I trusted my wolf not to tear into any more toddlers in the process, and to let go of our body when I needed to return.
Now in harmony, we shifted forms in a millisecond, too quickly for me to even feel my snout retracting into my face and the fur sinking into my skin. With human eyes, the night made it too dark to read, so I fumbled for a minute until my hand found the bedside lamp and I could illuminate Brooke’s letter. Then, clutching the paper in my lap, I read my sister’s final words to me.
Dearest Terra,
I’m sorry I won’t get to see you grow into the strong young woman I already know you’ll be. And I’m sorry I never got to see your shining face after I left Haven. I don’t regret the life I’ve built for myself here, but I do regret leaving you alone, the way Father made me promise to do.
I had to break Father’s rules this final time, though, just in case what happened to me happens to you. I told Dale that the doctors diagnosed me with cancer so advanced there was no point in trying chemo, but I was lying, just like I lied to my kind husband about all of my runs in the woods. I hope you’ll find a way to help Keith when the time comes since neither he nor his father will understand my son’s first change. I’ve kept the wolf away from my human family.
But I digress. I’m dying, sweet Terra, because my wolf is eating me up from the inside out. I used to see signs of this in Father sometimes, when he’d gone too long without shifting, but I thought that was just his bloodling nature shining through. I was wrong. Father and I have something in our blood that makes our wolves fight against our human bodies. You probably have it too, but I hope you’re smart and strong enough to find a way to make it work, like Father does. Cricket told me that you’re learning to partner with your wolf in a manner I never would have dreamed possible, so maybe you’ll be able to avoid the curse even if you hold your wolf in. I can’t seem to do the same—I’ve never been as strong as you.
I could let my wolf out to run, but I’m too afraid. I know you’ll think that giving up like this is no better than suicide, but I can’t go back to Haven and my wolf can’t be set loose here. So I’m holding her in, even though she’s gnawing on my bones. It hurts so much. I don’t think I’ll last long.
Once I’m gone, I hope you’ll remember me fondly. I thought of you every day, sweet Terra, even though I have a little boy to keep me busy now, and a husband I don’t begin to deserve. I sent you my love every night before I fell asleep, and I like to believe I’ll be able to love you even after I close my eyes for the last time.
Stay strong, smart, and caring like our father, Terra. But follow your own dreams.
Love from your sister,
Brooke
I could barely make out Brooke’s signature through the tears that were once again streaming down my cheeks, but I was surprised enough at what followed to halt the waterworks. Beneath Brooke’s final line, someone else had scrawled an addendum, and I had to lift the paper to my nose and ask for my wolf’s help before I realized who had authored the postscript. Cricket’s mousy scent of bleach and applesauce rose up from the page, stronger than my sister’s decade-old aroma, but carrying fewer memories. My stepmother’s words were definitely enough to pull me back into the present, though, despite lacking as much emotional impact.
Terra,
Your sister was wise. Your father has been fighting his wolf for years, but lately, I think he’s losing the battle. I see the wolf through his eyes even when we’re alone.
The pack is afraid, and so am I. Please come home. We need you.