My life

Stolen

GENEVIEVE POV

I woke up slowly, the kind of waking where your body feels safe before your mind remembers why. For a moment, I just lay there, staring at the ceiling, breathing in the quiet. Then it came back to me everything. The mall. My family. Running into Mica's arms. Being carried home. 

I was home. 

Not their home. 
Not that place. 

The realization settled into my chest like a fragile gift, and tears burned behind my eyes not from fear this time, but from relief. I was away from them. Truly away. 

I pushed myself out of bed and noticed the bags first. Lined neatly along the wall. So many of them. Clothes. Shoes. Things that were mine. My heart did something strange at the sight of them, like it didn't quite know how to handle abundance. 

I went to the closet, expecting to have to squeeze my things into a corner. Instead, I froze. 

Half of it was empty. 

Not messy. Not half-cleared in a rush. Intentionally empty. Space made for me. Space waiting. My throat tightened so suddenly I had to sit down on the edge of the bed. No one had ever made room for me before. I'd always been something people worked around, tolerated, shoved aside. 

I started unpacking slowly, one bag at a time, touching each piece like it might disappear if I didn't. Dresses ten of them. I'd never owned a dress that wasn't chosen for me or meant to make me look "appropriate." Jeans. Shirts. Shorts. Sweatpants. Shoes. Everything fit perfectly, like the closet had been waiting for these things all along. 

Then came the bathroom bags. Shampoo that smelled expensive. Conditioner. Body wash. Perfumes so many different scents, each one a small promise of choice. Lotions. Soft towels. Things that felt... gentle. 

And then I saw them. 

Razor blades. 

My fingers hesitated only for a second before slipping them into my hand. No one noticed when I bought them. There was too much stuff. Too much noise. I hid them carefully, somewhere Mica wouldn't look. 

I told myself I didn't plan to use them. 
I told myself it was just in case. 

That thought alone made me feel ashamed, but the comfort of knowing they were there soothed something broken inside me. 

After everything was put away, I showered. The water was hot, steady, and when I put on my pajamas soft, perfectly fitting I almost cried again. I didn't feel like I was wearing someone else's life for once. 

Then my stomach growled. Loud. Insistent. 

Hunger again. 

I followed the sound of Mica's voice down the hallway, stopping when I reached the door at the end. I raised my hand to knock then froze. 

He said my name. 

"Genevieve's family wasn't her real family..." 

The world tilted. 

I stood there, frozen, as his words poured through the door like ice water. He was talking to his father. About me. About things I didn't understand. Taken as a baby. Not wanted. A birth name I'd never heard before. 

Erika Genevieve Tolken. 

My head started to spin. My heart was pounding so hard it hurt. Then came the words that shattered everything I thought I knew about myself. 

"She's not human. She's a werewolf. And a very strong one... the last of her pack." 

Not human. 
A wolf. 
Strong. 

My legs gave out. I hit the floor on my knees, the sound dull and distant, like it didn't belong to me. My chest collapsed in on itself as sobs tore free. 

Nothing made sense anymore. 

I wasn't human? I wasn't even who I thought I was? All this pain, all this abuse and I wasn't even living the right life? I'd been lost before I ever had a chance. 

Why did my life have to be so complicated? 
Why did nothing about me ever get to be simple? 

---

MICAS POV

I was finishing my conversation with my father when I heard it a soft, hollow sound outside the door. Something falling. 

My heart dropped instantly. 

I opened the door and found her on her knees in the hallway, shoulders shaking, tears soaking into her pajamas. The look on her face confusion, grief, shock cut deeper than any blade ever could. 

She'd heard everything. 

"Genevieve," I breathed, crossing the space between us in two steps. I dropped to my knees and pulled her into my arms, lifting her easily. She clung to me like she was drowning, sobbing into my chest. 

"I'm so sorry," I whispered over and over. "I never wanted you to find out like this. Never." 

Her life had just cracked open. 

And I swore, holding her there, that I would help her put it back together no matter how long it took.