The petite woman approached the check-in desk with the fluid confidence of someone who'd never encountered a situation she couldn't handle.
"Harper Lane?" The woman's voice carried warm authority. "I'm Gerri Wilder."
Bella nearly choked on her granola bar. "Harper, this is her! The woman who reached out about the Washington assignment."
Harper's stomach twisted with a mixture of anticipation and dread. She'd hoped for more time to process Bella's ambush, but apparently the universe had other plans. "Ms. Wilder, I appreciate you coming all this way, but I haven't actually agreed to?—"
"Oh, don't worry about the formalities, dear." Gerri waved a manicured hand, her eyes sparkling with what looked suspiciously like mischief. "Please, call me Gerri. Ms. Wilder makes me sound ancient."
Bella grinned. "I should mention, Harper, that Gerri's main job is actually as a matchmaker. But this isn't about that—this is purely professional."
The woman's eyes shifted subtly, and for just a moment, Harper could have sworn they flashed gold before settling back to their original bright blue.
"Paranormal matchmaker, to be precise," Gerri corrected with a knowing smile that made Harper's pulse spike. "Though you're absolutely right, Bella. This particular situation is entirely about charity work."
Harper's professional instincts kicked in, though something about this entire encounter felt surreal. "Paranormal matchmaker?"
"I run the Paranormal Dating Agency. Hundred percent success rate pairing shifters with their destined partners." Gerri's tone was matter-of-fact, as if discussing the weather. "But I also do extensive volunteer work throughout various supernatural communities. When Evelyn Holt—the matriarch of a pack in Washington—reached out about her granddaughter needing specialized trauma counseling, I contacted this community center. Bella immediately recommended you."
The weight of expectation settled on Harper's shoulders like a familiar coat. Here it was again—someone in need, someone broken who required fixing, someone whose healing would become her responsibility. The logical part of her mind cataloged all the reasons to refuse: her already overwhelming caseload, the complete lack of advance notice, and the unknown variables that made Harper uneasy.
But the deeper part of her—that part that had driven her into this profession in the first place—was already calculating logistics and wondering what specific trauma this girl had endured.
"I'm already stretched incredibly thin," Harper began, though even she could hear the defeat in her own voice. "My caseload is completely full, and I have commitments here that?—"
"Harper." Bella's voice held gentle reproach. "When's the last time you used any of your vacation time? You've got weeks stored up."
Weeks of vacation time I've been saving for some mythical future when I'd want to go somewhere.
Harper felt the familiar tug of war between self-preservation and the inability to turn away from someone who needed help. Especially a child.
"What kind of trauma are we dealing with?" The question escaped before she could stop it, and she saw Bella's knowing smile from her peripheral vision.
Gerri's expression grew serious, though warmth remained in her eyes. "The girl—Lila—was attacked several months ago. Physical injuries have healed, but the emotional wounds run deep. She's withdrawn, struggling with anxiety, and having difficulty reconnecting with her family and community. The pack has tried local resources, but they need someone with your specific expertise in childhood trauma recovery."
Harper's chest tightened. She could already picture this Lila—scared, isolated, probably blaming herself for whatever had happened. The same hollow look Harper had seen in her own mirror years ago, before she'd learned to bury those feelings beneath layers of professional competence and emotional distance.
"I suppose I do have vacation time available," she heard herself saying, though part of her wanted to snatch the words back. "How long would you expect this assignment to take?"
"Hard to say, dear. Healing happens on its own timeline." Gerri's smile returned, brighter than before. "I can pick you uphere tomorrow morning and escort you to the town. It's not on any maps, so you'll need a guide."
Bella frowned slightly. "Not on maps? That's... unusual."
Harper felt that strange electric shimmer in the air again, stronger this time. Something about this situation felt significant in ways she couldn't grasp, as if invisible threads were weaving around her, pulling her toward a destiny she couldn't see.
"Many shifter communities prefer isolation," Harper said, her years of working with local shifters here bleeding through.
Gerri nodded approvingly. "Exactly. So, shall we say nine o'clock tomorrow morning? That should give you time to pack and make arrangements."
The weight of the decision pressed down on Harper's chest. This was insane—dropping everything to help strangers in a town that didn't exist on maps, guided by a woman whose eyes seemed to shift colors. Every instinct screamed that she was walking into something far more complicated than a simple counseling assignment.
But Lila's face—a face Harper had never seen but could somehow imagine—haunted her thoughts. Scared, wounded, probably convinced she was broken beyond repair.
"Alright," Harper said, the words feeling both inevitable and terrifying. "I'll do it."
Gerri's smile could have powered the entire community center. "Wonderful! Don't worry about the details—everything has a way of working out when it's meant to." Gerri turned to leave, then paused. "Oh, and Harper? Pack for mountain weather. It can get quite... intense up there."
After Gerri left, clicking across the linoleum with the same decisive confidence she'd entered with, Bella turned to Harper with barely contained excitement.
