Trapped by Seven Mafia Wolves novel Chapter 70

**Stars Refuse To Blink by Asa River Knox**

**Chapter 70**

**Two Days**

**Aurora’s POV**

Only two days remain.

Just two days until the school year unfurls its daunting wings once again, and the weight of that reality settles heavily on my chest, like a thick fog that refuses to lift.

Here I am, perched on the back patio, my knees pulled tightly to my chest as if I could somehow shield myself from the impending storm of change. The school uniform bag lies ominously in my room, a silent sentinel of my mounting fears. I haven’t mustered the courage to unzip it, let alone try on the crisp fabric. The mere thought of slipping into that outfit sends a shiver of dread coursing through me. What if I don’t fit in? What if I’m greeted by curious stares and hushed whispers? What if I’m once again relegated to the role of the quiet, odd girl, a label that clings to me like a shadow?

As the sun begins its descent, the sky transforms into a breathtaking canvas of oranges and pinks, yet I remain ensnared in my worries, the countdown ticking ominously in my mind. Two days. Just two days.

Inside the house, the lively sounds of my younger siblings bickering over a video game float through the open door, their voices rising and falling in a familiar, chaotic melody. Somewhere upstairs, Jace’s laughter dances down the staircase, a joyful sound that momentarily pulls me from the depths of my spiraling thoughts.

I try to focus on these comforting noises, the little things that weave together to create the fabric of home. But inevitably, my mind drifts back to school. New faces, unfamiliar teachers, and the tantalizing yet terrifying opportunity to start anew.

But what if I mess it all up? My nails dig into my palm, a desperate attempt to anchor myself against the tide of anxiety threatening to pull me under. I’ve faced tougher times; I’ve survived worse.

Yet, the feeling lingers, gnawing at my insides. I just… I wish I could escape this relentless fear that clutches at me.

Just then, the sliding door creaks open behind me, causing me to flinch instinctively, my heart racing before I even process who it is.

But it’s only Jace.

“Those of us who care notice things,” he replies, his tone soft yet firm, as if he’s imparting a precious truth.

The lump in my throat swells at his words, a mix of gratitude and relief washing over me. I’m thankful he isn’t one of those people who sugarcoat the truth, hiding it away until it becomes unbearable. He nudges me gently with his elbow, his eyes earnest and understanding. “You don’t have to be perfect, you know. Just be you. Just be Aurora.”

I exhale slowly, a shaky breath escaping my lips, but it feels like a release nonetheless.

Two days.

As the sun dips below the horizon, casting a warm glow that envelops us both, I feel a shift within me. Jace’s presence is a soothing balm to my frayed nerves, his unwavering support a reminder that I am not alone in this daunting transition. The weight of my fears, while still present, begins to lift just a little, replaced by a flicker of hope. I realize that the anxiety I feel is not a reflection of my worth but rather a part of stepping into the unknown. With Jace beside me, I’m reminded that I don’t have to face this new chapter alone. His encouragement to simply be myself resonates deeply, igniting a spark of courage that had long been buried beneath layers of self-doubt.

As the evening deepens, I take a sip of the hot chocolate, allowing its warmth to seep into my bones, mirroring the growing warmth in my heart. The looming school year transforms from an intimidating specter into a canvas of possibilities, painted with the colors of friendship and self-discovery. I may not know what awaits me, but with each passing moment, I am learning to embrace the uncertainty. Two days feel less like a countdown to dread and more like an invitation to explore who I can become. And as I sit there, side by side with Jace, I finally allow myself to believe that perhaps, just perhaps, this year could be different.