Chapter 5 The Last Goodbye

• BRIANA
• “David said we have space in our trailer for a bed for you. Do you want us to take yours apart?” Linda Bruce stepped into the room just as I finished sealing the last box with tape. Her sudden voice startled me, and I dropped the tape gun with a loud clatter. She gasped and quickly bent to pick it up for me, mumbling an apology as she handed it back.
• “No… I don’t want my bed. It’s too small for me now,” I murmured, taking the tape gun from her.
• Linda’s gaze drifted over the almost empty room until it settled on my parents’ bed. My chest tightened at the sight. I hadn’t lain on it since their deaths, afraid that doing so would erase the last trace of their scent.
• “How about we bring theirs then? That way you’ll have another piece of them in your new life,” she suggested with a playful wink and a bright grin.
• Her words warmed me. I couldn’t help but smile back at her as I looked at the sturdy wooden frame—older than I was, yet still strong. I nodded eagerly. It felt right. Together, we walked through the house one last time, moving slowly, as if stretching out the final moments of goodbye, until we ended up in the garage.
• My mother’s presence lingered everywhere, but especially here. She had been a gardener. I noticed her tools carefully packed, along with her boxes of seeds. A small, determined thought struck me—I would plant her seeds wherever I ended up. I would carry her garden with me into the future.
• “I loaded her potted plants into the bed of your pickup,” Linda said. “I told David he has to dig up her lilac bush before we leave. I’m not about to let that gorgeous bush stay behind for these goddess-forsaken wolves.”
• Her irritation made me laugh—loud, unrestrained laughter that bent me over until tears pricked my eyes. I had never seen Linda so flustered before. For once, she looked tired of her younger brother’s endless nonsense. When my laughter finally died down, she was staring at me with curious concern, as if wondering whether I had finally lost my mind. And maybe I had. The last twenty-four hours had chewed me up and spat me out. Still, laughing felt safer than crying.
• “We won’t let them take your parents’ hard work,” David’s deep voice came from the doorway. I turned and saw him standing there with his three children. Lace and Henry peeked out from behind him, their little eyes wide. My heart softened, and I opened my arms. They ran into my embrace without hesitation.
• “Daddy told us what happened. You deserve better,” eight-year-old Lace whispered with surprising maturity.
• “Thank you, sweetheart,” I told her with a shaky smile. Henry chimed in that he was excited for the adventure ahead, his small face glowing with energy. Standing a little apart was Adam, fourteen and tall for his age. He didn’t speak, just gave me a solemn nod that felt like its own promise.
• “So, are we all packed?” David asked, sliding an arm around Linda.
• “We are,” she answered firmly. “Briana and I counted everything. I’ll show you what to move.”
• With her words, we all fell into motion. The six of us loaded box after box into the trailer hitched to my truck. David had already prepared it earlier, while Linda had been treating my wounds during the hours I lay unconscious. His quiet efficiency had kept everything moving.
• Three hours later, the last of my belongings were secured. The final piece was my mother’s wedding dress, carefully folded and placed in the cab of my truck as if it were treasure. With the physical work finished, my thoughts turned to Peter Wood, my best friend and sworn brother.
• Peter and I had grown up with Drake Summer. He was the one who would step in as the next beta when I left. I knew I owed him something. Sitting at my desk one last time, I wrote him a letter. In it, I explained my decision to leave, trusting he would understand. I tucked the house deed inside, telling him the home was his if he wanted it. He had been searching for a place of his own, and I knew he would care for it the way I never could again.
• When I finally closed the door to my childhood home, I didn’t bother locking it. I knew I’d never walk through it again.
• “We have three hours left before the deadline. Do you want to say goodbye to anyone?” David asked gently.
• “No. The pack turned their backs on me long ago. I left a letter for Peter. I’ll call him once I get a new number,” I replied, my voice firm though my heart ached. When I had become an orphan last year, only a handful had stood by me—David and Linda, their children, and Peter. The rest of Moonveil Pack… even Drake, who had once been my everything, had been too wrapped up with Laura Joss to notice I was breaking.
• “Good. Let’s go,” David said simply.
• We climbed into our vehicles. Lace begged to ride with me, and I agreed. Her chatter would help drown the silence threatening to crush me. After buckling her in, I slid into the driver’s seat of my 2018 Ford F150 and turned the key.
• “Any music requests?” I asked, pulling up Spotify.
• She thought hard before requesting pop songs she could sing along to. I grinned and put the playlist on. With both of us ready, I honked the horn to signal David. He honked back, his own truck already tugging the trailer into motion.
• Driving through Moonveil pack was like swallowing shards of glass. Every turn forced me to pass familiar places—the training field, the forest edge, the houses of packmates who once called me family. My chest tightened with every memory.
• But Lace kept talking, her bright voice pushing the sadness back. She spoke of adventures, of new beginnings, of freedom. Her excitement wrapped around me like a shield.
• At last, the pack’s border came into view. My heart pounded as we crossed the line. Just like that, we were rogues—outcasts with no home, no alpha, no safety net.
• Maybe, someday, Moonveil Pack or some other kind-hearted alpha would welcome us in. Maybe.
• For now, survival was all that mattered. And survival was enough.