Surprise

Chapter 23: Up on the rooftop

Maya’s POV:

After finding Luna Maya and insisting she go help her husband, I felt adrenaline pulsing through my veins, driving me crazy.  I didn’t go back to the front room because I could only distract people or get in their ways.  I couldn’t help.  But I had to remain active, so I ran up the stairs and after ten minutes finally found the door to the roof that I’d used the other night.

I began pacing around the slanted tiling, my speed varying, fast then slow, slow then fast.  I knew the Alpha would be fine with the witches downstairs working at him, but my body didn’t quite know it yet.

I took deep breaths and then forced myself to stop moving.  I turned out to look at the town.  At the top of a four story building, I was able to see miles and miles away.  The sight numbed my mind, making me forget about the injured wolves downstairs and I sat.

The last time I’d been up here I’d been rejected.  I’d spoken to Connor and been rejected by my mate.  Why did the fates hate me?

My life the last two weeks has been like a long, realistic nightmare.  Part of me didn’t believe any of it had actually happened.  I was still waiting in my bed at home, sleeping, waiting for Aunt Linda to wake me up on my seventeenth birthday with a huge stack of pancakes with strawberries and whipped cream on top.  My parents would follow in after her and sing happy birthday to me and give me a birthday present.

But the sensible part of me knew that that had already happened two weeks ago.  And then they’d died.

I’d left without saying goodbye to anyone.  Aunt Linda would have taken care of me.  Hannah would have been there for me.  She would have supported me and come to the funeral with me.

The funeral.

I wished I had stayed for that.  But no, I didn’t.  I didn’t want to see my parents’ dead bodies or see the caskets lowered into the ground.  That would have been more painful than an eternity in Hell.

I remembered running away.  My wolf hadn’t thought about anything more than running, and that had been fine.

Then there had been Connor.  I should have found a mate in someone else.  I should have been given someone who could love me and help me through it.  Instead I got one who had acted like I made him want to vomit.

I hadn’t noticed, but I’d begun crying, tears warm, a deep contrast to the coldness I felt.  I sniffled and rubbed my eyes and forced myself to look back out at the small town.

It was a small town.  I’d gone to New York City the previous summer with Aunt Linda, and we’d stayed on the top floor of a hotel three blocks away from Times Square.  The view had been urban and beautiful at night when all the lights twinkled.

But this view was completely different.  I saw miles and miles of pine trees.  The sun was setting off in the distance and I saw specks here and there of rooftops.  Some black, some red, all small.  I saw the school, barely.  A few streets were visible and I saw small people walking around.

That’s right, I thought, think about the view.  Distractions are nice.

I listened and heard birds, singing like today was the happiest day ever, and crickets, chirping more annoyingly than ever before, and a door opening and closing behind me like-

What?

I looked behind me and saw the door I’d come outside through, just as it had been two minutes before: closed.

Curiously, I stood from where I sat, my feet dangling over the edge, and stepped cautiously to the door.  I opened it a crack, looked inside, but saw nothing.