After Miss Feathers contacted the police, the hospital confirmed the extent of my injuries. The bruises I'd been hiding weren't just physical marks—they were undeniable proof of the pain my father had inflicted on me for so long.

The doctors spoke in hushed tones every time they entered the room, and the nurses shot me sympathetic glances that felt like daggers. It was humiliating. Each bruise, each scar, each fractured rib I hadn't even realized was broken was meticulously documented. As they cleaned the deeper cuts, the sting of antiseptic seemed to strip away another layer of the defenses I'd built to protect myself. Lying on the cold examination table, staring at the stark white ceiling, I couldn't help but feel exposed, raw, and unbearably small.

When Officer Snyder arrived, her expression shifted from professional detachment to something resembling anger as she glanced at my medical chart. "We'll take it from here," she said firmly to the staff, her voice steady but laced with an undertone of determination.

For the first time in years, I felt like someone was on my side. The thick walls I had built around my pain—the ones that had kept me safe but also imprisoned—began to crack.

"Why didn't you tell us sooner, Eden?" Officer Snyder asked in a calm, quiet voice as she set my chart down with care. "All those times we showed up at your house... so many times you could have told us about his abuse."

I hesitated, the words caught in my throat. Could I trust her? Could I trust anyone? My voice came out trembling, barely above a whisper. "I didn't… that is… I thought…" Tears began to spill, hot and electric, streaking my cheeks as the weight of years pressed down on me. "What if you didn't believe me?"

Officer Snyder stepped closer, her presence both commanding and oddly comforting. Her short, neatly cropped white hair framed her angular face, the silver strands catching the harsh fluorescent light. Her stormy gray eyes, sharp and penetrating, seemed to cut through the shame I carried, but when they met mine, they softened with an empathy that felt like a balm.

"I have to ask you a few questions about the abuse," she said, her voice steady yet kind. "Some of the questions might make you feel uncomfortable. We can take this as slow as you need, but I need the full truth. No matter how hard it is, every detail matters."

Her words pressed down on me like a heavy weight, but there was no judgment in her gaze, only a quiet, unshakable determination to help. I nodded hesitantly, wiping at my tears as I braced myself for what was to come.

"How long has this been going on?" she asked, her voice softening into a more measured, professional tone.

"Since my mom left," I answered, my voice trembling as the memories began to rise.

"That was in 2010?" Officer Snyder clarified, flipping open her notepad and beginning to write feverishly.

"Yeah," I said, nodding slowly. "The day after my fourth birthday. I don't remember her much, besides that Father treated her terribly. They would yell a lot, and he would push her around." My voice cracked as I exhaled shakily. "When she left me with him, she left me to deal with that same abuse he gave her."

Officer Snyder paused for a moment, her pen hovering above the page. "Was the abuse every day?" she asked gently.

"Yes," I whispered, my gaze falling to the blanket draped over my lap. "I could never do right."

"Was there ever any sexual abuse?" Officer Snyder asked, her voice carrying a strained, almost reluctant edge. Her gray eyes briefly flickered with an emotion I couldn't quite place—dread, maybe, or a deep, quiet hope that the answer would be no.

I swallowed hard, my throat dry and aching. "No," I whispered, shaking my head, though the word felt heavy in my chest.

Relief flickered across her face, but it was fleeting, quickly replaced by the same unwavering determination. "Okay," she said softly, her tone steady but tinged with sadness. "Thank you for telling me, Eden. I know this isn't easy."

"I was afraid he would hurt me more than usual," I murmured, almost to myself. The words felt raw, tumbling out unfiltered. "If you didn't believe me… he probably would have killed me."

I drew in a sharp breath, my chest tightening with the memory. "He's almost killed me once," I admitted, my voice trembling. "Choked me until everything went black. I thought I was going to die."

Officer Snyder froze for a moment, her pen still against the paper. Her gray eyes burned with a mixture of horror and fury—not at me, but at the man who had done this.

"One of my teachers saw the bruises," I continued, my voice barely above a whisper. "She tried to help. She approached him about it." My hands clenched the blanket in my lap, my knuckles turning white. "But instead of stopping, I was punished because of the bruises. It was my fault, he said… always my fault."

Tears spilled down my cheeks, and for a moment, I couldn't speak. Officer Snyder set her notepad down gently, her movements deliberate, as if she didn't want to shatter the fragile connection between us.

"Eden," she said softly, her voice steady despite the emotion in her eyes. "You didn't deserve any of this. None of it was your fault. And I promise you, he will never hurt you again."

"Are you sure?" I asked, my voice barely audible. A small, fragile fire of hope began to flicker within me, warming the cold void that had settled in my chest for so long.

Officer Snyder met my gaze, her gray eyes steady and filled with conviction. "I'm sure," she said firmly, each word carrying the weight of a promise. "You're not alone in this anymore, Eden. We will protect you, and we will make sure he answers for what he's done."

"With the pictures that were taken earlier and your statement, we will be moving forward with contacting child services," Officer Snyder said before placing her notebook back into her pocket. "You get some rest, and tomorrow a caseworker will be by to talk to you more about what will happen next."

"Thank you," I said, my voice breaking as tears flowed hot and fast down my face. The words felt small compared to the overwhelming relief washing over me, but they were all I could manage.

"No need to thank me, Eden," Officer Snyder replied with a nod, her tone warm yet resolute. "Thank you for answering my questions. This really helps us ensure that you stay safe."

She reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out a small card, scribbling a number on the back before handing it to me. "If you think of anything else, anything at all, that you'd like to share, here's my phone number. Call me anytime, any day."

I took the card with trembling fingers, clutching it tightly as if it were a lifeline. For the first time in years, I felt like I had someone I could trust. Someone who believed me.

"I will," I said softly, my voice steadier now.

Officer Snyder gave me a small, encouraging smile. "You're stronger than you know, Eden. Don't ever forget that."

"I won't," I said with a determined nod, my voice carrying a hint of the strength I hadn't realized I still had.

Officer Snyder's smile widened slightly, a spark of pride lighting her gray eyes. "Good," she said simply, her tone firm yet gentle. "We'll get through this together, Eden. One step at a time."

As she turned to leave, I held the card tightly in my hand, the small fire of hope in my chest now burning brighter.

When I felt my eyelids grow heavy, the pull of sleep dragging me under, I found myself slipping back into some forgotten place, the forest I knew so well from my dreams lay behind me. The air was warm, the smell of the sea faintly mingling with the earth. I was no longer running through the trees, no longer fighting against something I couldn't see. Instead, I was sitting on a quiet, sandy beach, the moon casting its silver glow across the water.

The rhythmic sound of waves crashing softly against the shore filled the space around me, their constant movement both soothing and strangely unsettling. I watched the water shimmer in the moonlight, its surface rippling gently as if it were alive, breathing in sync with the night.

I stared at the slow, constant crashing of the waves, my mind a tangled mess of emotions and questions. What did this place mean? Why had I come here again? The pull of the moon was undeniable, its light reaching deep within me, stirring something primal. I couldn't shake the feeling that this dream, this moment, wasn't just a figment of my mind, it felt real, like a hidden part of me was finally breaking free.

The waves whispered to me, their voices like distant echoes, as if they had secrets to share. I closed my eyes for a moment, letting the peaceful sound wash over me, but even in this tranquility, I couldn't escape the weight of my own thoughts. There was a deeper meaning behind this dream, a message I couldn't quite grasp yet, but I knew it was important. The moon watched me, patient, as if waiting for me to understand.

There, in the stillness, I felt the weight of my thoughts pressing in. I let my fingers dip into the cool sand, grounding myself in the moment, trying to make sense of everything that had been happening. The forest had always been a place of chaos, of running from something, but now, the serenity of the beach, this quiet, reflective place, felt like an invitation, a place where I could finally stop and breathe.

I gazed at my reflection in the mirror of the water, the surface calm like a piece of glass. The face that stared back at me was both familiar and foreign, a strange mixture of who I was and who I was becoming. My long, almost silvery hair flowed gently in the breeze, catching the moonlight in soft waves. It shimmered, as if the strands themselves were part of something ethereal. My skin, kissed by the sun, had a warm glow to it, a stark contrast to the cool, quiet night around me. And my eyes—the blue of my eyes—were the color of the sky on a perfect summer day, always filled with wonder but now... something more.

The difference, the one that took me by surprise, was the absence of the dark circles that had once claimed my face. The exhaustion, the weight of years of fear and pain, had faded away. Instead, I saw peace. There was a calmness to her, to me, that I had never known before. The reflection in the water smiled back at me—gently, as if it understood something I didn't yet.

The water shifted slightly as a breeze passed over the surface, and in an instant, my reflection rippled and changed. The smile I had seen melted away into something deeper, something wild. The form in the water morphed, its edges blurring before it solidified into the shape of a beautiful white wolf. Her fur gleamed in the moonlight, a pure, shimmering white that seemed to glow against the night's shadows. Her eyes—my eyes—were full of ancient wisdom, of untold stories waiting to be shared.

I reached a hand toward the water, my fingers barely grazing the cool surface, and the wolf mirrored my movements, her gaze steady and knowing. There was no fear in her. No hesitation. She was everything I felt inside but had yet to fully understand.

The bond between us was undeniable. She wasn't just a reflection, she was a part of me. I was her, and she was me. As the moonlight danced on the waves, I realized that I had always known this wolf. I had always been her, and she had always been waiting for me.

"Hi," I whispered softly, almost in awe, before a sudden giggle escaped my lips, pure and free, as though something deep inside of me had finally let go. The sound was strange but comforting, like the wind dancing through the trees.

The wolf's blue eyes gleamed with understanding as it lowered its head, its body rippling with an ethereal light. I felt a strange warmth, a connection, as if the wolf were not just a reflection, but a part of me, a part I had never fully embraced.

Then, a voice echoed softly in the air, the words carrying a sense of ancient wisdom, yet soft like a mother's whisper. "My gift to you, daughter, is a family that will keep you safe and teach you the ways you did not have a chance to learn."

The voice resonated deep within me, a gentle pull in my chest. I felt the weight of those words settle over me, like a promise that had been made long before I even knew it. A family. A protector. A place where I could finally belong.

The white wolf's form shimmered in the moonlight, its presence filling the space around me, and for a fleeting moment, I wasn't just the girl with a broken past. I was something more. I was part of something bigger.

I nodded slowly, as if I had always known this was my path, my destiny. I reached out, not knowing if I would touch the wolf, or if it was just a vision meant to guide me. But either way, I felt it: the power of what lay ahead, and the hope that maybe, just maybe, I could find peace.

"Your mother did not leave you willingly, daughter," the voice whispered, soft and reverberating through the night air. It was as though the wind itself carried the words, delicate yet heavy with truth. "She lays at my feet, watching over you."

I froze, the words sinking into my chest like a weight, a truth I had never known but somehow always felt lingering in the back of my mind. The idea of my mother, my protector, was always a shadow, a lost figure in the depths of my memories. But hearing this... hearing that she hadn't chosen to leave, that she had loved me, filled me with an unfamiliar ache, a longing I had long buried.

As the wolf's form shimmered before me, the air around me seemed to shift, the world bending with a warmth that washed over me like the softest embrace. I felt an energy, gentle and fierce at once, enveloping me in a protective cocoon, as if something far greater than myself was holding me close.

"She loved you, little daughter," the voice continued, this time with a tenderness that made my heart ache. "Even in her final moments, she carried you in her heart."

Tears welled in my eyes as I gazed at the wolf, my reflection in its deep blue eyes, the same as mine. The pain of loss, the years of wondering, the constant feeling of abandonment, all began to melt away in that moment. In the embrace of this unseen force, I felt something profound shift within me, a realization that I had never truly been alone.

The wolf's gaze softened as if it understood, as if it knew the weight of my heart, and in its quiet presence, it promised me that the love I had always craved was never far away. It had always been there, watching over me, waiting for the moment when I could finally accept it.

"I will guide you," the wolf whispered to me, its voice a melodic hum in the air, like the rustling of leaves in a gentle breeze. The words were soothing, yet filled with an undeniable strength that resonated in the very marrow of my bones. The wolf's eyes never left mine, their depths reflecting not just the moonlit water, but a centuries-old wisdom I could feel pulsing around me.

"So we are connected?" I asked, the words leaving my lips with a sense of wonder, as though I had unlocked a piece of myself I never knew existed. My voice trembled slightly, a mix of fear and awe, not fully understanding the magnitude of what Yin was telling me.

The wolf's eyes softened, shimmering with a profound understanding. She stepped closer, her form melting into the moonlight, the edges of her fur glowing faintly with a celestial radiance. There was an ancient power in her presence, something beyond just the physical world.

"I've always been there, Eden," the wolf whispered, her voice steady and warm, wrapping around me like a comforting embrace. "From the very moment we were born. We were never separate, never truly apart. Our souls have been intertwined since the beginning, bound by the will of the Moon Goddess. 

"She's the one that just spoke to me." I said softly. "What do I call you?" 

"Luna." She whispered. 

A memory of when I was a small child flashed before my eyes, vivid and alive as though it had happened just yesterday.

I was running through the woods, the wind rushing through my hair, the scent of pine and earth filling the air. A small white puppy, her fur bright against the green backdrop of the forest, chased after me with boundless energy. Her paws hit the ground with a soft patter, and I laughed, the sound of my giggles blending with the rustling leaves.

"Wait, Eden!" she called, her voice light and full of laughter, her tone so familiar even now.

I picked up speed, dodging between trees, my feet barely touching the earth. "You can't catch me!" I called over my shoulder, a wide grin spreading across my face. The thrill of the chase sent a rush of excitement through me.

"I will catch you, little human!" she barked, her voice teasing, but I could hear the promise in her words.

With a burst of energy, the little puppy sprang into the air, a leap that carried her weightlessly toward me. Before I knew it, she had knocked me to the ground, her soft body landing on top of mine with a giggle.

"Got you!" she barked, her tail wagging so hard I could hear it.

I rolled onto my back, laughing, feeling the warm sun on my skin, her playful weight pressing down on me. "Alright, you got me," I said, still laughing. "I guess you get to pick your name then, huh?"

She tilted her head, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "No silly, that's your job," she said, her voice dripping with sweetness as she licked my face.

"Ew, gross!" I giggled, wiping my face with the back of my hand, but I couldn't stop smiling. "Alright…" I said, my thoughts turning to the perfect name. "Hmm, what to call you? Oh, I know…" I grinned widely, an idea coming to me. "Luna."

"Luna?" She asked, her tone filled with curiosity, her ears perking up. "Luna… Yeah, I like it. Luna it is."

I looked down at her, still laughing, the moment so pure and simple, so full of joy. "Luna?" I repeated, a smile tugging at my lips. "Will you be with me forever?"

Her eyes shone with certainty, her small body lying beside me in the grass. "Forever and ever," she said, her voice a promise that carried through time, deep in my heart.

In that moment, it felt like a bond had been forged between us, something beyond the world of children's games—a connection that would last, unbreakable, forever. And little did I know, that promise would be more than just a playful declaration.