The Moon Never Chose Me Chapter 05

The Moon Never Chose Me Chapter 05

After the scene at the celebration, even the relatives started whispering. Stop playing favorites so blatantly,

they said.

My mother was humiliated. She took all her anger out on me.

Back home, she raised her voice loud enough for everyone to hear-while staring right at the storage room.

“Starting today, nobody in this house talks to Layla.”

“Until she admits she was wrong and apologizes to Caelan and Maeve, she’s not family.”

For days, the whole family treated that storage room like a quarantine zone.

No one went near it.

No one asked if I was okay.

The room stayed silent. Completely silent.

My mother finally cracked. She pulled my father aside.

“Why is she so stubborn? All she has to do is say she’s sorry. We’re family. It’s not like we’d never forgive

her.”

My father sat by the fireplace, irritation tightening his face.

“She’s always been like this. So damn hardheaded.”

My mother didn’t get it.

In her mind, parents had every right to give more love to the kids who deserved it.

When Caelan and Maeve were born, the entire Silvercrown Pack came to celebrate.

The double-moon twins had earned Moonhart family more respect from the Elders’ Council.

But when I came? No celebration. No blessing.

And because I shifted so late, plenty of people questioned whether my blood was even pure enough.

Sure, they’d ignored me all these years. But they’d never actually kicked me out.

I had a roof over my head. I could go to school.

To my mother, that was more than enough.

I was supposed to be the good girl I’d always been. Wait for them to cool off. Accept whatever scraps they

threw my way. Slip back into muy old place.

She thought about it for a long time. Finally, she let out this reluctant sigh.

“Fine. Tomorrow I’ll buy her a shirt. Give her an out. If she still won’t come out after that, then I’m done with her.”

My father patted her shoulder.

“She’s still our daughter. What kid actually walks away from their parents for good?”

The next day, my mother took Maeve to the mall.

They came back with Maeve grinning, lugging bags of custom dresses and jewelry.

My mother dropped a plain T-shirt-something she’d grabbed on Clearance-outside the storage room

door.

“Layla,” she called out, sharp and impatient. “I got you a new shirt. You’re always complaining we never celebrate your birthday. Consider this your present.

In the old days, I would’ve opened that door the second I heard those words.

My mother could practically picture it-my eyes lighting up, me thanking her quietly, desperately.

A small smile tugged at her lips.

She stood there. One minute. Two. Ten. Thirty.

The door never opened.

The smile faded from her face. Then came the anger.

She kicked the door with her boot.

“Fine. Great. You’ve really grown a backbone now, haven’t you? If you’re so tough, stay in there forever. Never see us again!”

She spun around and stormed off.

But she barely made it a few steps before Maeve’s whining drifted from the laundry room.

My mother’s heart dropped. She rushed over.

“What happened?”

Maeve was holding a white dress that had turned gray. Tears streamed down her face.

“This is Layla getting back at me, I know it. She must’ve put her black training gear in the washer on Chapter 5

purpose. I didn’t notice. Look-my dress for tomorrow’s date with Declan is ruined.”

My father heard the noise and came over.

One look at the dress and his face went dark.

“It had to be Layla. She’s the one who always did the laundry. Who else could it be?”

My parents grabbed tools and stormed toward the storage room.

The old lock gave way fast.

My mother barged in, face dark, hand already raised to strike.

Then she saw the room. All the color drained from her face.