My fingers tighten around the phone 79

Aria’s POV
The whole morning felt off. Since being hit by that training bag earlier, my stomach had been churning with discomfort.
The morning classes at the training camp had gone well enough—I’d lectured on tactical equipment used during
previous wild wolf attacks—but something still felt strange. By lunchtime, I was exhausted, my body inexplicably achy,
and my appetite nearly nonexistent.
I retrieved my lunch box from the shared instructor refrigerator and sat down at a nearby table. The fluorescent lights
overhead seemed unusually harsh, casting everything in a slightly sickly glow. Even my lunch tasted wrong. The
homemade chicken Caesar wrap had a metallic, unpleasant flavor that made my taste buds recoil.
I chewed slowly, rolling the food from one cheek to the other, trying to identify the problem. Using my fingers, I dug out
some of the chicken from inside the wrap, examining it carefully. Nothing visibly wrong. I sniffed the tortilla, checking for
any signs of spoilage or sourness. Still, something was definitely off with the taste and smell.
Zoe sat across from me, her lunch spread out neatly: a ham and cheese sandwich, chips, some fruit, and sliced
cucumbers. My eyes lingered on the cucumber slices, a sudden intense craving washing over me. The crisp, fresh
vegetable looked impossibly appetizing compared to my wrap. I shook my head and returned my attention to the food in
front of me, the mere thought of taking another bite making my stomach roll.
Zoe had been watching me with that observant look that always made me slightly uncomfortable. I shifted my gaze from
her back to my wrap. “Why are you looking at me like that?” I asked, trying not to sound defensive.
The corner of Zoe’s mouth twitched, and I could tell she was suppressing a laugh. She cleared her throat before speaking.
“You’re looking at your food like you just wrapped vomit in a tortilla.”
“Yeah, I think I might have used some expired chicken or something, because this tastes weird,” I replied, placing the
wrap back in my lunch container with a grimace.
“Want my cucumber slices?” Zoe asked, tossing the plastic bag across the table. I smiled gratefully and eagerly munched
on the sweet, crunchy vegetables, humming in appreciation. The cool, refreshing taste was exactly what I needed,
washing away the metallic aftertaste of the wrap.
Just as I was feeling slightly better, my phone rang. Lucas’s school flashed on the screen, and my heart immediately
kicked into overdrive. After the incident with Bella abandoning Lucas, I remained perpetually vigilant about anything
concerning my son. Fear sank deep into my stomach, intensifying the already unsettled feeling there.
“Hello?” I answered, my voice tight with anxiety as I pressed the phone to my ear.
“Mrs. Reynolds?” a woman’s voice inquired from the other end.
“Yes?”
“This is the school nurse. Lucas is here with me. He vomited during class. He seems to have a slight fever, but nothing too
severe.” Her voice carried that professional sympathy nurses perfect over years of making similar calls. “School policy
requires students with vomiting and fever to be picked up promptly.”
“”Oh! I’ll be right there!” I ended the call, my hands suddenly trembling so badly I nearly dropped my phone. A wave of
panic crashed over me, constricting my throat until it felt like I was trying to breathe through a straw. My heart
hammered against my ribs with such force I was certain everyone in the room could hear it.
“Everything okay?” Zoe asked, collecting her own lunch items. I paused, realizing I was still at work and needed to find
coverage for my classes. I couldn’t just leave whenever I wanted. When I tried to explain, panic tightened its grip on my
throat. All that came out was a small, strangled sound, so I took a deep breath and cleared my throat to try again.
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“Not really. Lucas is sick, and they need me to pick him up. I have to take the afternoon off,” I said, managing to keep my
voice steady despite the turmoil inside.
Zoe nodded, swallowing the food in her mouth before responding. “No problem, I’ll help find someone to cover your
classes. That part wasn’t really your specialty anyway. Let me know if you need tomorrow off too.”
I nodded, unable to prevent a frown from forming. The afternoon lecture was on different claw techniques during partial
transformation. My last transformation had been nearly seven years ago, and even then, I’d had no experience with wild wolves or combat. I could help teach evasion from various claw attacks, but when it came to using claws offensively, I was more student than teacher. I bit my inner cheek, suppressing the rush of sadness threatening to overflow.
“I practically flew to my locker, fingers fumbling with the combination twice before I managed to get it open. I yanked out
my bag, not even bothering to change out of my sweat-soaked training clothes. The scent of the training mats still clung
to me as I sprinted through the corridors.
The parking lot shimmered under the midday sun as I burst through the doors, the heat hitting me like a physical wall. I
slammed my body into the driver’s seat of my old sedan, tossing my bag onto the passenger side with such force that the
contents spilled out across the seat. My hands were shaking so badly I could barely get the key into the ignition.
‘Please, please, please,’ I whispered desperately, turning the key. The engine coughed weakly, sputtering in protest. I
turned it again, more forcefully this time. Another pathetic whine, then silence.
‘NO!’ I slammed my palms against the steering wheel, the sharp pain barely registering through my panic. ‘Not today!
Not NOW!’ I screamed, my voice cracking with emotion. Tears of frustration burned at the corners of my eyes as I kicked
the brake pedal repeatedly, as if physical violence might somehow intimidate the car into working. ‘Lucas needs me, you
stupid piece of metal! START!’
I took a deep, ragged breath, forcing myself to calm down just enough to try once more. My knuckles were white around
the key as I turned it again. Miraculously, the engine roared to life, the vibration running through the frame like a living
thing.
‘Oh thank god,’ I gasped, relief washing over me so intensely I felt light-headed. I stroked the dashboard with trembling
fingers, a hysterical laugh bubbling up from my chest. ‘Good car. That’s my good girl. Thank you, thank you.'”
On the way to Lucas’s school, I began contemplating what a negligent mother I must be for not noticing my son was sick.
I had sent him to school with a fever and stomach issues. The morning’s memories were foggy, just our usual routine.
When we were playing around, Lucas hadn’t felt warm or shown any signs of discomfort. He’d seemed normal, but
perhaps I’d been too preoccupied with my stupid drama with Emma and Ethan to notice my son wasn’t feeling well.
Suddenly, the car began shaking violently; then the check engine light flickered, and all power cut out. With no power
steering, it took all my strength to activate the hazard lights and maneuver the car toward the roadside. As the vehicle
slowly drifted to the curb, I let out a frustrated scream. I was still halfway to Lucas’s school. I turned the key to the off
position, then tried starting the vehicle again and again, but it wouldn’t even turn over now. I couldn’t understand why
fate was tormenting me like this.
I grabbed my phone, first planning to contact someone to help me pick up Lucas. My first instinct was to contact Ethan.
I’d even opened my phone and found his name before stopping myself.
Was I really that stupid? I’d just been internally monologuing about stopping my involvement in their drama. The
simplest way was to remove him from my personal life. From now on, he was just the training camp director, nothing more.
I shook my head, forcing thoughts of Ethan from my mind. Taking a deep breath, I picked up the phone and dialed Leo
instead.
His cheerful voice answered on the third ring. “Well, if it isn’t my favorite princess! To what do I owe the pleasure of this
midday call?