(Thomas POV)
When Edythe and I got home after school, I went and grabbed the journals and placed them on the kitchen table. After debating for a while I knew I couldn't hesitate any longer, Leah needed this link to herself.
Looking at Edythe I smiled, "Well let's hope this doesn't blow up in our face." I removed my clothes and made the shift to tiger only to come up empty as I tried to reach out for Sam. He must not be shifted.
I shifted back and put my pants back on, then started pacing the kitchen wondering how I was going to get ahold of him. Edythe watched me for a couple of minutes with a half-smile before she made me feel like the idiot I was, by handing me my cell phone.
"Didn't you guy's exchange phone numbers after you saved Emily?"
I felt foolish, I knew the number, but I just focused on our usual way of talking and didn't think of the more mundane solution.
I gave her a sheepish smile and found his number before hitting call. After 3 rings he picked up "Uley residence."
"Hey Sam, it's Thomas. Umm sorry to call out of the blue, but I need to see Leah. Will you let her know please, it's important."
There was a pause on the line, not long, but long enough to make me picture him pressing a hand to his forehead the way he did when something complicated landed in his lap.
"Thomas," Sam said slowly, "she's… not in the best place right now."
"I know," I said. "That's why I need to talk to her."
Another pause. A quiet sigh.
"I'll ask," he said. "But I'm not promising anything."
"Fair enough."
He hung up before I could say more.
I set the phone down and ran a hand through my hair. Edythe leaned back in her chair, arms crossed, watching me with that expression she saved for moments when she wanted to laugh and comfort me at the same time.
"It'll be fine," she said softly.
"Fine is optimistic," I muttered.
"I know." Her voice warmed. "But you're doing the right thing."
The wait was surprisingly short. My phone barley finished its first ring before I answered it.
"Yeah?"
Sam's voice was still flat and unreadable. "She said no. Several times."
A knot tightened in my stomach. Crap, so much for the easy way. "Okay. Tell her I won't..."
Sam cut me off.
"She said she doesn't want to talk to you," he continued, "And I should give you her address so you can be there before evening rounds."
I blinked slowly. "...Huh?"
Sam gave a long exhale that sounded suspiciously like a covered laugh, or possibly a sigh of exhaustion. "Her words, not mine."
I dragged a hand over my face. "That's..."
"Leah," he finished for me. "That's just Leah lately."
"Yeah," I breathed. "Not confusing at all."
Sam didn't bother softening his tone. "Look, I don't pretend to understand her logic right now. She's… volatile. More than usual."
"That's not very comforting," I muttered.
"She said, again, quoting, 'Tell him I don't want to see him, and also if he doesn't show up, I'll be pissed.'"
I closed my eyes. "That makes zero sense."
"Welcome to my life," Sam said dryly.
"Did she say why?"
"No." Then, quieter, "But I think she's scared. And if she's scared, she'll bite at anyone who gets close."
I ran a hand through my hair again, pacing without meaning to. "I don't want to make this worse."
"Honestly?" he said. "You're more likely to make it better than anyone else."
That pulled me up short. "Why would you say that?"
Sam hesitated, rare for him. "Because she listened when you talked to her before. And Leah doesn't listen to anyone she doesn't respect."
That… landed heavier than I expected.
A sharp throat-clear over the line. "Anyway. I'll text her address. And Thomas?"
"Yeah?"
"Don't push her. And don't back down, either. If you retreat, she'll think you don't care. If you push, she'll try to take your head off."
"So… walk a tightrope blindfolded."
"Basically."
"Fantastic."
Sam huffed something close to a laugh. "Good luck."
The line clicked off.
I stood there for a moment, phone still pressed to my ear, brain replaying the words in a loop.
Edythe's footsteps were soundless, but I felt her before she reached me. A cool hand slid to the center of my back.
"That," she murmured, "sounded complicated."
"That was complicated," I said. "Leah said no. And also, yes. And also, something in the middle. And maybe also something involving violence."
Edythe's lips twitched. "That sounds like Leah."
"Apparently, I'm expected to navigate her emotional minefield."
"Well," she said, brushing her thumb along my spine, "you are very good at walking into explosive situations."
"Comforting. Any hints on how to walk out of them still intact?"
"Meant to be, and nope. Thats a girls only secret." she said lightly.
I grabbed my jacket, slung the backpack over one shoulder. The journals inside felt heavier than before, not physically, but with everything they meant.
"Wish me luck?" I said. Before I realized I was still in just my pants. Edythe laughed at me as I took the time to get fully dressed. Once I was done, I collected my bag again and looked at the door. "Wish me luck." I said again lamely.
Edythe smiled softly, stepping close enough to straighten my collar even though it didn't need fixing. "You don't need luck," she murmured. "You just need to show up."
"Showing up might get me mauled."
"If she tries," Edythe said serenely, "I'll be unhappy."
"And then what?"
"Then," she said, "I will consider being very unreasonable."
I barked out a laugh. "Fine. I'll do my best to avoid triggering the nuclear option."
She leaned in and kissed me once, brief but grounding. "Go. Before she convinces herself to slam a door in your face."
"Already on my way."
I headed for the door, heart kicking up as the thought settled:
Leah Clearwater said she didn't want to see me.
And also told me to come anyway.
Yeah.
This was going to be fun.
The drive from my house to the reservation edge felt shorter than ever. Maybe because my brain wouldn't stop rearranging every possible outcome like some kind of emotional chess game.
Would she slam the door?
Yell?
Shift and try to bite my head off?
Cry?
Pretend not to care?
With Leah, any combination was possible. Maybe even all of them in under five minutes.
By the time I crossed onto the boundary road leading toward her place, I'd rehearsed eight versions of opening lines and hated every one of them.
I slowed near the Clearwater driveway, stopping just before turning in. The house was quiet, lights off except for the kitchen window. A shadow moved past it, too quick to identify. Leah? Sue? Seth?
Probably Leah.
Probably pacing.
Probably regretting telling Sam to send me here.
I exhaled, leaning my head back against the seat. "Okay. No backing down. No pushing too hard." I paused. "Walk a tightrope. Blindfolded. While juggling."
Edythe's earlier words echoed unhelpfully:
You don't need luck. Just show up.
Yeah. Well. I was here. So that box was checked.
I grabbed the backpack from the passenger seat and unzipped it just enough to see the old leather journals inside. Elaraim's handwriting peeked through like a ghost from another time.
"Come on, Grandma," I whispered. "Help me out here."
I got out of the truck before I could talk myself into running the other way.
I paused at the bottom of the porch steps.
Inside, I heard movement, heavy, pacing steps back and forth across a wooden floor. Then lighter steps. Then heavier again. Like someone was trying very hard not to wear a hole straight through the boards.
Leah.
Only Leah moved like she wanted to fight the walls.
I took a breath.
And then the front door yanked open so fast I flinched.
Leah stood framed in the doorway, arms crossed, jaw tight, eyes sharp and bright in a way that made it impossible to tell if she was angry, exhausted, bracing for impact, or all three.
It hit me immediately how tired she looked. Not physically, physically she looked like she could bench-press a truck, but emotionally.
Emotionally, she looked frayed.
She stared at me like I was an equation she couldn't solve and didn't want to.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then she said, tone flat as a falling stone:
"Good. You're here. Get to talking before I change my mind."
I blinked. "...Hi to you too."
She rolled her eyes so hard I thought she'd sprain something. "Do not start with me, Thomas. I'm already regretting this."
"That makes two of us," I muttered before I could stop myself.
Her nostrils flared — not wolf-level flared, but close. "Are you seriously going to be a smartass right now?"
"Apparently," I sighed, lifting the backpack a little. "Because if I'm being honest? I have no idea what the hell I'm supposed to be doing."
Something in her expression flickered, the tiniest, tiniest crack in her armor.
"Yeah," she said. "Welcome to the club."