f o u r

                                    

                                          
WE WERE CONNECTED.
                          
As weird as it seemed, I shared a bond with my new lycanthropy teacher, Mr Grayson, from the moment I met him.
                          
"I've been waiting for you for many years, Weslyn." I stared up at him, a strange blend of curiosity and confusion filling me. "The last time I saw you, you were barely 9 years old."
                          
9 years old. The start of my memories. For years I tried mindlessly to remember my childhood before that age, only to be attacked by pain, that burst at the sides of my head. It was almost unreal; impossible. 
                          
When I started to question it, my mother told me of the hit and run accident that killed my father and gave me amnesia. The explanation made perfect sense. It even justified the long scar that ran along my back; almost as if I had been slashed open with a blade.
                          
But after finding out my mother had went through so much caution to hide my birth place from me, I had no way in believing what she said.
                          
There was only one way to find out the truth. It was, after all, the reason I had come to Gray Valley in the first place.
                          
"By Luna, you know me?" I asked, not particularly surprised. 
                          
After arriving in the town, I had so many strange experiences, I doubted I would be astonished by anything.
                          
"You could say that."
                          
"What can you tell me about my father and mother?" I demanded. He raised an eyebrow scornfully.
                          
"What makes you think I'll tell you anything?"
                          
My mind spun, as I realised he was right. What did I have that could possibly make me get him spill what he knew? I had no way of leverage on him or anyone. Gritting my teeth, I looked down and saw his hand gripping my wrist. And then, it clicked.
                          
"You're touching your student," I replied. "I can get you fired for that." 
                          
His eyes met mine and to my astonished, he recoiled. I guess I was wrong. Some things would never fail to surprise me. He released my arm from his hold.
                          
"You're father and mother were Wesley and Lianna Grayson," he started. "They were both born and brought up in Gray Valley. So was I... and you."
                          
"Me?" Once again, this confused me. "I was brought up here?"
                          
"But of course," his smirk returned. "You wouldn't remember, would you?" I stared at him. What was he going on about? "So tell me, what was the pathetic cover story your mother gave you for moving states away from your birth place. Not to mention, of course, your significant memory loss..."
                          
"It was no cover story," I bit out. "My father died in a hit and run accident that injured my mother and I. I had amnesia from the crushing my skull onto the car door and the glass shards slashed my back, which is why I have-"
                          
"Clever," he interrupted. "That was extremely clever of her. The fact that she justified the scar made it a whole lot more believable, didn't it Weslyn?" 
                          
I furrowed my eyebrows, as I recalled the time she told me of the accident. She had added my back being slashed several minutes afterwards; almost like an afterthought. Back then, it made sense that she was reluctant to speak of it but now that the doubt was planted, there was no way I could trust her completely.
                          
"It did," I admitted. "I could believe her more when she explained the scar... but if she was really lying..." Who can I put my faith in? 
                          
"You don't know who to trust anymore," he finished. My lips parted at his statement. How did he know exactly what I was thinking. "You can believe me." 
                          
I carefully studied at the man before me. His stormy, gray eyes fixed with unfathomable intensity; deafeningly black hair, darker than the night sky; smooth ivory skin shone with determination. Nothing about him made me feel I couldn't trust him but at the same time, I didn't feel I could either.
                          
So I asked him.
                          
"Why should I trust you?"
                          
"I want to protect you, Weslyn; save you. I'm not going to let anyone else hurt you." 
                          
Again, it didn't make sense. I didn't even know him, yet he claimed to want to defend me from danger. Who was he? What did he know of my past? But most of all what was there for me to be protected from?
                          
"But, why?" I repeated. "Why defend me?"
                          
This time, he  smiled. Not  smirk, but a genuine smile.
                          
"I thought you would have figured it out by now, Weslyn. Surely I wasn't the only one who felt the bond. Even if you are missing memories... surely, you can't have forgotten your family."
                          
"W-what?" I stuttered. family. Just the word itself made hope flutter in my stomach. "W-who are y-you?"
                          
Family. There was something in the way he uttered the words... Almost knowing.
                          
Maybe, I wasn't lost. Maybe I was exactly where I needed to be.
                          
"I may not seem it, but I've missed you, my little sister."