My Stepdads A Werewolf

Chapter 1: Fragile Foundations

Lori sighed as she unpacked yet another box, her hands moving mechanically as her mind drifted. London was supposed to be a fresh start, a new chapter. But it felt like a broken record—this was the fourth time she’d moved in the past year. Every time, the promise of stability crumbled into dust, and she was left picking up the pieces of her shattered relationships, dragging her daughters with her to another unfamiliar place.

"Mom, I can’t believe you’ve done this to us again!" Izzy’s voice, sharp with frustration, cut through the silence of their new apartment.

Lori turned to face her eldest, Isabel, who was standing by the window, arms crossed, her expression a mix of anger and sadness. At 16, Isabel was all teenage defiance, but Lori knew beneath it lay a deep exhaustion, a weariness from all the moves, all the goodbyes, all the upheaval.

"You know why we had to move, Izzy" Lori replied, her voice low, though she felt the weight of guilt pressing down on her. "Things weren’t working out. This is for the best."

"For the best? Are you kidding me? It’s never for the best, Mom. We just left everything behind. Again. I finally made friends, and now I have to start all over. Again."

Lori didn’t have a response. What could she say? She knew Isabel was right, at least in part. This wasn’t what she’d wanted for her daughters or for herself. But life hadn’t given her many choices, and each relationship that fell apart seemed to push her further into a cycle of constant change.

"I’m sorry," lori said finally, setting down the plate she’d been holding and rubbing her temples. "I really am." This was the 4th move this year, they'd moved at the beginning of year after the relationship with her youngest daughter Zara's dad broke down, they'd moved in with her parents that didn't go great, they then moved again when she found a relationship with a guy who'd swept her off her feet, he said all the right things did all the right things, and she was utterly and completely head over heals in love with him, then he cheated, so then they moved here, in the dingy 2 bed apartment she could barely afford.

Isabel scoffed and turned away, her dark hair whipping around as she stared out the window. "Sorry doesn’t change anything. Sorry doesn’t fix the fact that I have to go to another new school, and everyone’s going to know I’m the new girl, again."

Lori opened her mouth to respond, but zaras soft voice interrupted them. The five-year-old had been quietly playing with her toys on the living room floor, seemingly oblivious to the tension between her mother and sister.

"Mommy, can I go to school with isabel?" Zara asked, her wide blue eyes looking up innocently. "I wanna make friends too."

Lori's heart clenched. Zara didn’t understand the weight of it all yet. For her, every move was a new adventure. But Lori knew that one day, even Zara would grow weary of starting over.

"Not yet, sweetie," Lori said softly, kneeling beside Zara. "You’ll start your new school soon, but not with Izzy, It’s a big school for big kids."

Zara pouted for a moment but quickly returned to her toys, her small world still uncomplicated.

Lori looked back at Isabel, who was still staring out the window, her reflection a mix of anger and disappointment. Isabel hadn’t had a chance to make London feel like home, and Lori wondered if any place would ever feel like home again.

"We'll get through this, Izzy. We always do," Lori said, her voice almost pleading.

Isabel turned, her eyes sharp. "But what if I don’t want to get through it this time?"

The silence that followed was heavier than any box Lori had unpacked.

Lori stood, her heart sinking into the pit of her stomach. Isabel's words echoed in the stillness, the weight of their meaning pressing down on her. It wasn't just teenage rebellion speaking—there was something deeper, a crack in their fragile bond that Lori feared she couldn’t mend.

She looked around the room at the half-unpacked boxes, the dull, beige walls of the apartment seeming to close in. This place was supposed to be a fresh start, but all she could feel was the looming shadow of failure. Lori had always told herself that each move, each new city, was a step toward something better, but now she wasn't sure if she believed that anymore. Was she just running from one broken dream to another?

"I'm trying, Izzy," Lori whispered, barely able to meet her daughter's eyes. "I’m trying my best."

Isabel didn’t respond, just shook her head and grabbed her headphones from the table, retreating to her room without another word. The door slammed shut, reverberating through the small apartment, leaving Lori standing alone.

Zara, oblivious to the tension, continued to play, her small fingers weaving plastic animals into some imaginary world where things were simpler, where families didn’t break apart. Lori envied her daughter's innocence but knew it wouldn’t last.

She slumped down on the couch, exhaustion overtaking her. How had it come to this? A dead-end job, a string of failed relationships, her daughters slipping further away from her with each move. She pressed her hands to her face, trying to push away the tears that threatened to spill.

In the quiet of the room, Lori felt the ache of loneliness creeping in, the kind that comes when the people you love the most start to drift away. Maybe Isabel was right to be angry. Maybe Lori wasn’t doing enough, or maybe she just didn’t know how to do better. She had no roadmap for this—raising two girls on her own, trying to navigate a life that had gone off the rails long ago.

A faint knock on the front door startled her. Lori quickly wiped her eyes and stood up. When she opened the door, she was surprised to see Mrs. Blake, their new neighbor from across the hall, holding a small tray of cookies.

"Hi, I thought I’d bring over a little something to welcome you to the building," Mrs. Blake said with a kind smile, her gray hair neatly pinned back.

"Oh, thank you," Lori said, forcing a smile. She hadn’t expected this kind of gesture, especially in a place that felt so cold and unwelcoming.

Mrs. Blake’s eyes softened as she glanced inside the apartment. "Moving can be tough, especially with little ones. If you ever need anything, don’t hesitate to knock on my door. I’m right across the hall."

Lori nodded, her throat tight. "Thanks, that’s really kind of you."

Mrs. Blake gave her a gentle pat on the arm before turning back to her own door. As Lori closed the door, she looked down at the tray of cookies in her hands. It was a small, almost insignificant gesture, but in that moment, it felt like a lifeline.

She placed the cookies on the kitchen counter and looked over at Zara, who was still lost in her own little world. "Zara, sweetie, would you like a cookie?" Lori asked.

Zara’s face lit up as she bounced over to the kitchen, her earlier pout forgotten. "Yes, please!"

As Zara took a cookie and happily munched away, Lori sat back down, watching her. Maybe Mrs. Blake was right. Maybe there was still some hope in this new beginning, even if it felt fragile. Lori had to believe that, for her daughters' sake.

Tomorrow, she’d try again. She’d try to make London work, try to reconnect with Isabel, and give Zara the stable life she deserved. For now, though, she allowed herself a moment of quiet, listening to the sound of Zara’s small voice as she hummed a tune, her innocence a reminder that not everything was broken beyond repair.