Chapter 13 CHAPTER 13
The sunlight hit her face like a revelation.
For the first time in her life, Cindy walked freely beneath it without anyone barking orders, without chores chaining her hands. She slipped out of Isabel’s apartment and into the city, sandals rubbing against her still-blistered feet, but she didn’t care. Every step felt like defiance.
The city was alive in a way Silverpine had never been. Carts rattled down narrow lanes, the smell of roasting chestnuts mingled with fried onions from food stalls, voices rose and fell like waves. Cars honked impatiently, children ran past in laughter, and street vendors called out their wares with rough but cheerful voices. Cindy’s eyes darted everywhere, drinking it all in - bright shopfronts, walls plastered with posters, colorful dresses swaying on racks.
She was free.
And yet - she wasn’t blind to the way people’s eyes flicked toward her and then away again. Her jeans and shirt were borrowed, oversized and rumpled. Her hair, though brushed, still carried a wildness that didn’t belong in the neat rows of city dwellers. Mothers pulled their children closer when she passed. Men and women gave her space on the sidewalk as though her strangeness might stain them if they came too near.
Freedom, she realized, wasn’t always warm. Sometimes it was cold. Sometimes it was lonely.
She was about to cross a wide street when the light changed, sending a tide of people rushing across. In the current of footsteps and voices, an elderly man stumbled. His grocery bags split, oranges rolling across the asphalt, jars clinking dangerously near the wheels of cars waiting at the light.
Before she even thought about it, Cindy darted forward. She caught the man under his arm, steadying him before he could fall flat, then crouched to gather the scattered groceries. Her hands worked fast, scooping up onions, cans, a loaf of bread, stuffing them back into the paper sack.
The old man’s wrinkled face lifted toward her, pale with effort. “Thank you,” he breathed.
“You’re hurt,” Cindy said, noticing the way his knee buckled when he tried to take a step.
“I’ll manage,” he said, though pain laced his voice.
The traffic light flashed red again. Cindy threw both grocery bags over one arm and wrapped her other arm firmly around his. “Come on, before we get flattened.”
Together they hurried the last few steps to the curb as cars surged past. The old man exhaled heavily, trembling.
“You really shouldn’t be walking like this,” Cindy told him. “Where do you need to go? I’ll help you.”
He gave her a cautious glance. “You’re sure? You look like you’ve somewhere else to be.”
Cindy shook her head. “Nowhere. Nowhere at all.”
The old man smiled faintly, lines deepening around his eyes. “Then I’d be grateful. My shop’s just down this road.”
The bell above the shop door jingled softly as Cindy pushed it open. She blinked at the unexpected sight: cages lined the walls, small animals shifting inside them - cats with wary eyes, puppies curled up in straw, birds fluttering in wire enclosures.
At first, they only stared. Then, all at once, the air shifted.
A dog whined sharply and backed into the corner of its cage. Kittens arched their backs, hissing as their tiny bodies pressed against the bars. Birds shrieked, feathers scattering as wings beat furiously.
Cindy froze, heat rushing to her cheeks. “What… what’s wrong with them?”
The old man frowned. “Strange. They don’t normally behave this way.”
It’s me, Lisa’s voice hummed inside Cindy. Calm, almost apologetic. They can sense my presence. To them, I feel like a predator.
Cindy’s throat tightened. “So what do I do?”
You let me step back, Lisa replied gently. I’ll retreat to the quiet edges of your mind, and they’ll feel safer. Trust me.
Cindy nodded slightly, as though agreeing with herself. A soft wave passed through her body, like a held breath finally released. Instantly, the chaos dulled. The dog lowered its head, the cats eased down, the frantic birds settled onto their perches.
The old man frowned behind the counter. “Mmh…. Strange again… they suddenly went quiet.”
Cindy chuckled sheepishly, rubbing the back of her neck. “Maybe I just startled them.”
“Perhaps,” he murmured, though his eyes lingered on her a little longer than comfort allowed.
Cindy forced a small smile. “Are they all sick?” she asked, though her voice was quiet, uneasy.
“Some,” he said, setting himself behind the counter. “But many are strays. Lost, abandoned. I take them in, care for them until someone adopts them.” He gestured toward a colorful poster taped to the window: Find Your Forever Friend - Adopt Today.
Her chest tightened. Strays. Lost. Unwanted. The words pressed against her heart like needles. She looked away quickly, holding up the bags of groceries. “Where should I put these?”
“Oh on the counter, thank you.” He dusted his hands and straightened. “I live upstairs, but I’ll carry them up when I close the shop later.”
“You’re sure?” Cindy asked, eyeing his knee.
He chuckled softly. “It’ll be fine. I’ve survived worse.”
She nodded, lowering the bags onto the counter. “Then I’ll be going.”
“Wait,” he said. “May I ask your name?”
She hesitated a heartbeat, then answered. “Cindy. Cindy Hale.”
The old man’s smile warmed. “A beautiful name. I’m Nolan - the town vet. Come visit again, Cindy. The animals may scream their heads off at you, but I won’t.”
Cindy managed a small laugh. “I will. Thanks.” She waved lightly before slipping out the door and back into the street.
The shop bell jingled once more as the door clicked shut behind her. Silence fell, broken only by the uneasy shuffle of paws and feathers. Nolan stood still, watching the street where Cindy had disappeared.
Then, slowly, he straightened. The stiffness left his frame, the limp vanished. His spine uncurled, his shoulders squaring as his skin seemed to ripple faintly, decades melting away until he stood not as a fragile elder, but as a middle-aged man with clear eyes that gleamed faintly gold.
He stepped into the dim light filtering through the shop window and whispered to the empty room, voice heavy with meaning.
“Cindy Hale. The goddess has chosen you - and now I can see why. I only hope your pain does not blind you from heeding the call.”
The animals stilled, their noises fading into a strange, reverent quiet.
Nolan drew the curtain over the window and turned away, his figure dissolving into shadow.
Far down the street, Cindy walked on, unaware of the watchful eyes that had just measured her worth.