Two Homes, No Place for Me Chapter 09

Two Homes, No Place for Me Chapter 09

I ask, “What do you mean, go back to the way things were?”

“Back when you had a room in both houses, while I slept on a folding bed in the storage room?”

“Back when everyone dropped everything to help you move, while I couldn’t even find someone willing to drive me to the station?”

Juliet’s face turns pale.

“I never asked them to take your room away. I just wanted Mom and Dad to love me.”

“I know.”

I look at her calmly.

“You weren’t the one who kept giving my place away.”

“But you saw it happening.”

“You saw my things dumped on the floor, and you still took my suitcase.”

“You saw my college acceptance buried in both family group chats, and you never said a word.”

She asks through her tears,

“So you’re never going to forgive us?”

I don’t answer.

Because I no longer live my life based on forgiveness or resentment.

After Juliet leaves, Holden is waiting for me downstairs.

He brings the two old keys, one from Dad’s old house and one from Mom’s.

“I found these in the storage room. I’ve kept them with me ever since.”

He places the keys in my palm, then pulls out the renovation sketch Derek drew all those years ago.

“Anne, I know these old keys don’t open the new doors anymore.”

“But if you’ll let me, I want to help you start over.”

I look at the two rusted keys.

“Holden, do you know why old keys don’t open new doors?”

His eyes turn red.

“Because the locks were changed.”

I shake my head, “Because they’re not the same homes anymore.”

I hand the keys and the drawing back to him, “Neither are we.”

Then I turn and walk toward the dorm.

No one follows me this time.

For once, he finally learns not to use making things right as an excuse to force his way back into my

life.

Four years later, I stand on the auditorium stage as one of the university’s outstanding graduates.

My senior design project continues the theme of One Room Each.

I design a transitional housing complex for young werewolves who are studying far from home,

lone wolves who temporarily have nowhere to stay, or young wolves who need to build an

independent life in the human world.

None of the rooms are large.

But every one has its own lock, a permanent bed, and enough storage space for everything its

Occupant needs.

Every resident can register their own fingerprint.

No one has to ask someone else to open the door.

On graduation day, Dad, Mom, Derek, and Holden all come.

They don’t contact me beforehand. They simply sit quietly in the back row of the auditorium.

After the ceremony, Mom takes out a key.

“Anne, I’ve kept your room at my place all these years.”

Dad adds, “The access to your room at my house was never removed.”

Derek hands me the framed renovation sketch.

“Both rooms are still there.”

“This time, no one is going to touch your things.”

I don’t take it, “Keep them.”

Tears roll down Mom’s cheeks.

“Then where are you going to go when you come home?”

I look toward the entrance of the auditorium, where my coworkers are waiting for me.

Today isn’t just my graduation.

It’s also the day I get the keys to my new apartment.

“I have my own place now.”

No one says anything.

Holden stands in the back.

Over the past four years, he hasn’t contacted me using Juliet as an excuse. He hasn’t acted like I

would always be waiting for him.

When I pass him, he only says quietly, “Congratulations, Anne.”

“Thanks.”

I answer calmly, the way I would speak to someone I lost touch with a long time ago.

The mate bond between us has long since gone silent too.

That evening, I step into my own apartment.

The living room is small. There is only one bedroom.

But no one can turn it into a study, give it to a stepbrother, or use it as Juliet’s second closet.

As the smart lock is being installed, the technician asks, “How many fingerprints would you like us to add?”

I think for a moment, “Just mine for now.”

The fingerprint is recognized.

A soft electronic chime sounds: [Welcome home.]

I stand in the doorway for a long time without moving.

Before I turned eighteen, Dad and Mom each had a new door.

Derek, my stepbrother, Juliet, and Holden could all walk through them whenever they wanted.

Only I didn’t have access.

Now, I finally have a door that truly belongs to me.

I don’t have to wait.

I don’t have to settle.

And I never have to be afraid that one day I’ll come home and find my room has been given another

purpose.

I place the two old keys inside a keepsake box instead of throwing them away.

They can’t open a single door anymore, but they remind me of what it once felt like to be left

outside.

My phone lights up with messages from Dad and Mom.

[Does your new place need anything? Do you want us to come help you move anything?]

I reply: [No. I’ve already moved everything in.]

Moonlight spills through the window and fills the room.

It doesn’t shine on Dad’s starry lights or Mom’s pink princess bed.

It falls across my own desk, my closet, and my bed.

Both homes once had a place for Juliet.

Neither had one for me.

But from this day forward, I never have to ask anyone again:

Where is my room?

I pick up my own key and close the door.

The moon once shone on two doors, while I had nowhere to call home.

Now, among countless doors and countless homes, I finally have one light that shines only for me.