“Days… sometimes weeks… years… Our clinic… not equipped…”
Despair joins the worry. Not mine. I’m whittling wolves.
But then a booted foot suddenly crashes down on my wolf family. CRACK!
A higher-pitched warped voice asks, “Anything yet?… Brought… boys to meet her…”
Oh. Better start again.
Mutter Wulf.
“Only images… giving us… carving wolves, over and over again…”
Vater Wulf.
“Hold… nephew while I… her hair… Least I can do…. Tadhg’s gutted.”
Baby Wulf.
The foot comes down again. CRACK! I’ll need to start over.
“Sadie. Sadie. Are you processing my voice?”A piece of black silk glides across my skin.“If-then, please reboot and come back to us. Clear this buffer.”
There’s a full moon speaking to me. But all the windows are boarded shut. I can’t see it. But I want to.
“Her eyes shifted… I think she’s trying to blink—Sadie? Sadie?”
Oh well. Back to whittling.
Mutter Wulf.
Vater Wulf.
“Sadie… here, take this… Remember… Come out of this… Come back to us…”
The original voice is louder now. It carries so much authority. But I need to carve the…
Baby Wulf—hold on.
I open my hand, and there’s not a baby wolf in it, but a large, rotund animal. A bear. Intricately carved, with details too fine for my little whittling knife to pull off. There’s a streak gouged from its eye to its ear.
What is this?
I blink.
“Oh God—did you see that? It worked! She blinked.”
The intense worry ebbs. Just a bit.
“Hand me the light… the one the doctor left.”
A bright light floods the room. This time it’s blinding.
I raise my hands to shield my eyes.
“Turn it off,” I croak, my voice brittle from disuse.
The light disappears.
