CHAPTER FIVE

LANDON:

Basking in the warmth of the sun, I stepped into Sasha's school—a lively place, pulsing with youthful vigor. Its red-bricked facade and bustling courtyard hinted at the vibrant energy within. I was just displeased with the dilapidated nature of some of its corners and the bad roofs. The school hasn't fixed those yet? Someone was going to pay dearly for the continuous negligence. I still donated a lot of money the last time I came here and they haven't done any work on things I complained about.

Carrying an array of snacks, unsure if she would like any of what I came with, I headed toward her class. Damn! I must be going crazy because there's no way I'm doing this when I should be back at the company doing more important stuff.

At my entrance, the whole class turned in my direction. Sasha spotted me, her eyes widening in surprise.

“Hi, Sasha,” I greeted and waved, anticipating her reaction.

Staring at her as she approached, Sasha, at the tender age of five, possessed a captivating allure that drew people in—a delicate balance of innocence and curiosity. Her most striking features were her enchanting green eyes, reminiscent of a lush forest glimmering in the sunlight. They held a world of wonder within them, sparkling with something I couldn't read. Again, knowing there was a possibility that she was mine, I thought about her transformation. Was she a hybrid? A full she-wolf? Or, an ordinary human? Has she transformed? How did her mother handle it? If she hasn't, how was I going to get into her life to help her with the transitioning if it ever occurred? There were so many questions that I needed answers to. These questions were driving me insane.

Complementing her gaze was her chestnut hair which framed her cherubic face, forming soft curls that danced as she moved. The locks held a hue resembling autumn leaves, warm and inviting. In the sunlight, they shimmered with a subtle, golden glow, adding to her ethereal presence.

Sasha's countenance was a canvas of youthful joy and boundless energy, often adorned with a mischievous grin that hinted at her playful nature. Her cheeks bore a natural rosy tint as if kissed by the sun, reflecting the delight she found in the simple joys of childhood.

Despite her small stature, there was an air of confidence about her, a quiet determination that peeked through her innocent traits. She had a natural grace in her movements, a captivating charm that endeared her to all who were fortunate enough to know her. Sasha was, in every sense, a captivating embodiment of youth and promise, full of energy and wonder. And for some of her features, I could say for sure she got it from her mother.

“Mr. Kurt!” she exclaimed, rushing towards me, her face vibrant like the noonday sun. "What are you doing here?" she inquired.

There was a pang of pain I felt at how she called my name. That was crazy. No one ever called me Landon. Yet, I wanted this little girl to call me that. Mr. Kurt sounded too formal with her. I needed that closeness and not distance.

Grinning warmly, I squatted to her level and replied, "I wanted to make sure that you were doing well as I was visiting the neighbor. I thought I could drop by too. How is your elbow?"

"Pretty healed," she said, twisting and rolling her sweater's sleeve for me to see. "All gone," she repeated, smiling.

There was something about her that reminded me of my younger self. She was full of energy. Full of a positive aura even with the side of her that was weak, which she hid very well.

The murmuring in the class grew so loud that a curious teacher, her eyes alive with interest, approached us, prompting me to stand tall. "Hello. You're new here. I'm her teacher, Miss Dennis," she greeted, offering her hand for a shake. "And you are..."

"He's my Dad," Sasha chimed in, wrapping her tiny arm around my legs, her big green eyes pleading with me.

"Oh, wonderful! You're her father?" the teacher asked, seemingly absentminded to Sasha's previous comment. Not waiting for my answer, she continued, "The resemblance between you two is striking—the eyes, nose, and ear shape. She's truly a mini-you. Why haven't we seen you around before? It's always her mom who drops her off and picks her up." She leaned closer to whisper, "There are rumors that her mother is a single parent."

Reluctantly, I played along, not wanting to upset Sasha. "Well, here I am, in the flesh. I guess you missed my last visit."

"I was absent..." she began, but I cut her off.

"Focus on teaching, not prying into people's lives," I snapped, growing tired of her intrusiveness. I thrust the snack tray into her hands. "Here! Why don't you share Sasha's treats with the class and make them happy? There's more in the car."

She stood there, embarrassed and speechless.

"I'd like to speak with my daughter privately."

"Of course, Mr..." she started, and Sasha quickly added, "Mr. Kurt."

The classroom buzzed with excitement, and I could see the satisfaction in Sasha's eyes. Surprisingly, I felt more relief than anger.

"You shouldn't lie, Sasha. It's not okay. You don't know the trouble you've caused," I scolded as we got to a quiet corner outside. Was her mother teaching her to be a deceitful person? Kids pick up characteristics from whom they're with, and she had just her mum. Let me not judge her when I barely knew her. Still, I was going to get to the root of this character.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, her head lowered, hands linked behind her.

"Why'd you do it?" There had to be a reason for her actions.

"Because I always get laughed at and bullied. They call me a fatherless child. It's been happening forever," she replied.

"This has been going on longer than today? What about your mom? Should we call her?" I knew something was up the first time I met her. That was why my primary issue of concern which I addressed at my first visit was tackling bullying.

She became afraid, her fave going cold. I could sense the slight tremor of her body. "Please, don't. Don't tell my mom about today. She's dealing with so much, and I can't add to it. I know what she sacrifices for us. This will stress her out," she begged.

She's just five, yet so empathetic, smart, and attentive. She shouldn't be burdened with adult concerns at her age. Her world should be about happiness, playing with Barbie dolls, and simply being a child. The weight on her, the fear I sense, and her mature thoughts were all unhealthy for a child.

I shook my head, making sure I didn't show the concern I felt for her. "You shouldn't have to worry about all that. Leave it to the adults. Besides, this isn't a good plan, Sasha."

"Please, just go along until I've figured out how to fix this. Please."

I shook my head, deciding to let her know the reality of the situation. "Sasha, this isn't a good idea," I repeated.

My thoughts tangled. It was a tough choice. In a way, I liked what just happened because it was going to give me access to get to know her, and there was some element of truth in this. A truth that I wouldn't want to come to light until I've figured out what was happening, seeing if it was safe enough to either reveal or forever bury it.

I let out a breath. "Alright, Sasha. We'll play along for now. But only until I can safely resolve this."

Sasha's eyes lit up with relief. "Thank you. Thank you. Thank you," she exclaimed, hugging me tightly.

"Don't thank me too soon. And promise, no more lies. I just hope this doesn't lead to trouble," I muttered to myself.

"No more lies," she agreed, smiling. Sasha glanced around and then back at me. "I've got to get back to class. Thanks, Mr. Kurt," she said, hugging me once more, and then darted away.

Watching her disappear, I stood and made my way to my car, contemplating the mess I had just stepped into. Despite the uncertainty, as I left the school, my wolf inside let out a contented howl. It seemed my anger had faded too.