I shrug.
Three doors down from the bathroom is my Marisol’s room. She might have a pair she left behind in the closet. Have a look before you come out. Then, meet me on the porch.
Down the hall I approach the bedroom Agnus mentioned. The room smells musty and damp like it hasn’t been used in a long time. I close my eyes, allowing the layout of the room to fill my mind. I see a little girl’s room, with a full-sized canopy bed covered in a faded pink duvet, spiderwebs cover a lamp sitting on a nightstand near the bed. Disturbed dusty patterns near the window followed by bloodied footprints leading to the door, reveal a dark mahogany wood beneath the caked-on dirt and dust. I walk over to the boarded windows and find the missing panel I pulled off earlier. A quick glance at my feet covered in dirt and dried blood confirm that the footprints are my own.
In the closet, a line of shoes caked with dust sit on a shelf. A worn pair of Converse tennis shoes catch my eye. I swipe away the grime and try them on. They fit perfectly. Smiling, I wiggle my toes.
As I head to the porch, I hear someone ask, “Alpha Agnus, is everything okay?” A tall, lanky, elderly man with salt-and-pepper hair approaches the house.
“Yes, everything is fine, Miller. I’m just taking my friend on a walk around the territory.”
“Your friend, Alpha?” he inquires.
“Are you questioning my friends?” She rests her hands on her hips. I smirk at her sassy nature.
The man actually winces. “Uh, no, Alpha. It’s just, uh…” He clears his throat. “You, uh, don’t like people… or have very many friends.”
She laughs and slaps his arm. “Yes, well, I like this Little One, which says a lot. Doesn’t it?” She turns to face me and winks.
Miller holds out his hand to introduce himself. “I’m Miller, Alpha Agnus’s right-hand man.”
I first wipe my hands on my pant legs and shake his outstretched offering. I try to speak, but a breathy squeak emits from my mouth.
Agnus pats my arm and explains, “She’s a little shy. Why don’t you come with us and give her a tour of the place?” Embarrassed, I dip my head and reach to cover the gaping hole in my throat when Miller grips my hand tightly in his. His eyes narrow, scrutinizing my features. I don’t blame him. I’m a teen who basically appeared out of nowhere.
“Does your friend have a name?”
“Of course she does, Miller,” Agnus tsks. “It’s Jessica,” she proclaims.
His eyes widen before he once again masks his expression. He looks me over one last time before releasing my hand. Nodding, he says, “Very nice to meet you, Jessica.”
I give a tight-lipped smile and nod as well.
Offering an arm to help Agnus off the porch, he continues, “Your little friend Jessica wouldn’t have been responsible for all that racket last night, would she?”
Agnus stops in her tracks. “Why, Miller, are you being rude to my guest?”
“Uh, no, Alpha. It’s just… well… I’m just looking out for you… and the pack, of course.”
“Just shut your ass and take us on that tour!”
I cover my mouth to stifle my giggles. Miller glances at me. Agnus is a feisty old woman. Then again, I guess she needs to be as an Alpha. I wonder why she never introduced herself to me as Alpha when she told me her name.
Both Miller and Alpha Agnus show me their little pack community—their homes, the small school, and even the tea plantation. Whitemore pack is known for its white tea. According to Alpha Agnus, the secret is their water source. It is believed that the water from Quartz Lake behind the plantation contains healing properties. The water is siphoned from the lake as a water supply to the plantation as well as the pack’s general use.
At the end of the tour, they show me Quartz Lake. Alpha Agnus points to the other shoreline and says, “Beyond the lake is the seventh territory. Are you familiar with its history?”
I nod.
She stares into the distance—sad, wistful. “Good. It’s important that you learn where you came from. It’s important to learn the struggles and the sacrifices made by generations before so that you can have the life that you live now and in the future.”
She speaks low, almost a whisper, but I hear her. I also notice the slight shine of unshed tears in her eyes. She blinks a few times, as if pulling herself out of a memory.
“You should sit and rest by the lake. Maybe take your shoes off and dip your feet. When you’re ready, return to the house, and you can make my lunch.”
I almost nod in agreement but then pause, cocking my head in her direction. Why she thinks I can cook is beyond me. I simply shrug and turn back to the lake.
“You better figure it out. I missed breakfast this morning.”
