No Longer Your Joke: A Luna’s Exit Chapter 04

No Longer Your Joke: A Luna’s Exit Chapter 04

Minutes later, the bathroom door slammed open.

Next thing I knew, my mom—the Luna—rushed in.

She didn’t ask what happened. She didn’t even look at the tear tracks on my face.

She just grabbed my arm and yanked me out of the bathroom.

“How long were you planning to hide in there?”

My foot slipped and I hit the floor hard.

The spilled wine soaked into my clothes, smearing everywhere—I was a complete mess.

My wolf clawed at the inside of my chest, desperate to get out and fight for me.

Mom pulled a diagnosis paper out of her pocket—severe depression—and threw it in front of me.

“See this?”

“You’ve always complained we treat Nessa better? This is why!”

“The jokes we played on you? They were just to make Nessa feel better. If she laughed, we were happy.”

Nessa’s eyes were already red-rimmed.

“Luna Eveline, don’t tell Isolde—she’ll feel guilty.”

“It’s all my fault, every bit of it. I shouldn’t have joked with her… honestly, when she said she wanted to cut me off, my heart almost stopped.”

Declan rushed to her side, watching her with concern.

But I laughed.

To make Nessa happy, they kept messing with me, watching me cry, watching me run around like a monkey—was that really that funny?

“That’s not what depression looks like, Nessa.”

I stepped forward, and for the first time in front of everyone, I pulled back the watch strap on my left wrist.

There they were—the scars I’d kept hidden for years.

One.

And another.

Werewolf blood heals fast.

But even that couldn’t keep up with how many times I’d cut my wrists.

On all those nights when their jokes cut deepest, I was always alone, licking my own wounds.

“Depression isn’t something you just say you have. If you’ve got the guts, show everyone your ‘proof.'”

Slap—

A heavy palm struck my face.

My left ear rang.

But no tears came.

Lucian pointed at me, his face twisted. “Are you insane? You’d fake wounds just to compete for attention?”

“Tell me—which makeup artist did you pay?”

The guys behind Declan started whispering.

Someone even pulled out their phone and posted what just happened on the Pack Forum.

[Faked suicide scars for sympathy just to win favor?]

Nessa walked over with a worried look.

“Isolde, even if they don’t believe you, I do. Please, just stop, okay?”

“Today’s supposed to be a celebration. Just… apologize to everyone.”

I laughed.

I looked around the room.

“Then when are you all going to give me the apology you’ve owed me for eighteen years?”

Mom’s face went red.

“Isolde! How—how dare you talk to me like that!”

She grabbed a vase from the side and hurled it at me.

I dodged.

The vase smashed against the wall with a deafening crack, shattering into pieces.

Just like our years of family bonds.

I picked up my suitcase, my voice steady.

“You don’t have to kick me out. I’m leaving on my own.”

I didn’t look back.

…

At the airport.

Sitting at the gate, I pulled out my phone.

I sent one message to the group chat: [I made a joke.]

Then I grabbed my suitcase and boarded the plane to Silverlake.

You spent your whole life messing with me using jokes.

So I’ll say goodbye with one of my own.

Hope you like my joke, too.

…

Back at Blackthorn Pack.

My parents and Lucian stared at my message—”I made a joke”—and fell silent.

What joke?

First thing the next morning, they rushed to Ravencrest Academy, desperate for answers.