bloodbound

chapter 1

Arielle Thorne
"you call it being negative, I call it being realistic"

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*Four Months Later* 

The front yard was littered with half-packed boxes, loose rolls of tape, and the remnants of a life we were leaving behind. The moving van stood at the edge of the driveway, its wide, open mouth waiting to swallow the last of our belongings. I stood in the middle of it all, gripping the edge of a cardboard box like it was the only thing keeping me anchored. 

"Arielle!" my mom's voice floated over from the front porch, strained but patient. "Can you get the last of your books from the living room? The movers are almost ready to go." 

I nodded, even though she couldn't see me from where she stood. My feet felt heavy, as if the ground beneath this old house was holding me in place, refusing to let me go. It wasn't the house itself—it was the memories it held. 

Dad teaching me how to ride a bike down the cracked sidewalk, his voice guiding me as I wobbled with the handlebars. His laugh echoing through the hallways when Azalea painted her bedroom walls with her favorite glitter pens. All those small, seemingly insignificant moments felt like they were woven into the very foundation of the house. 

Now it felt like all of that was slipping through my fingers, out of my control.

But we couldn't stay here, wrapped up in ghosts and goodbyes. Solace Creek was waiting, this new town with its unfamiliar streets and the promise of something—what exactly, I wasn't sure. Mom said it would be a fresh start. I wasn't convinced. 

"Arielle?" Azalea's small voice pulled me out of my thoughts. I turned to see her standing next to the pile of boxes, her stuffed rabbit clutched tightly to her chest. Her eyes, too big for her face, flickered with unease. She had been quiet all morning, unusually quiet, even for her. 

"Yeah, Azzy?" I asked, trying to keep my voice light. I knew she was as torn about this move as I was, though she didn't have the words to express it. 

"Do you think Dad's gonna find us in the new house?" she asked, her voice small, tentative. She still hadn't fully grasped that Dad wasn't coming back. Part of me envied her for it, for still holding onto that thread of hope. But I couldn't let her hold onto it forever. 

"He's not coming to the new house, Azzy. But he'll always be with us, no matter where we go."  I replied

Her lips pressed into a small, uncertain line. "Even in Solace Creek?" 

"Especially in Solace Creek," I said softly. "Dad's everywhere, in everything we do. Every time we think of him, or tell one of his stories, it's like he's right there with us." 

She nodded slowly, processing my words, though I wasn't sure how much comfort they actually gave her. Honestly, I wasn't sure if I believed them myself, but I had to say something. For her. 

"Okay," she said quietly, wiping her nose on her sleeve. Then, as if nothing had happened, she turned back to the pile of boxes and started stacking the smaller ones on top of each other, her little hands moving with a determined focus. 

"Ari?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, her back still facing me as she stacked her boxes. "Do we have to go? What if we forget Daddy when we leave?"

Her question hit me like a punch in the gut. I crouched down, bringing her to face me, setting the box aside and taking her small hands in mine. Her grey eyes, so much like Dad's, were full of unspoken fears that I didn't know how to soothe.

I watched her for a moment, my heart squeezing painfully in my chest. "We won't forget him, Azzy," I promised, my voice soft but firm. "We could never forget him. No matter where we go, Dad will always be with us."