reached down to stroke Oliver’s hair gently. He looked up at me, his tear–stained face brightening with hope.
“Mommy?” he whispered.
“But it doesn’t change anything,” I said, my smile never faltering.
Derek’s expression froze. “What do you mean?”
“I’ve filed a lawsuit with the Pack Council,” I announced, watching as the hope drained from his face. “All three of you are
involved in defamation of the Chief Therapist of the pack.”
Derek’s mouth opened and closed wordlessly. “But–but we just—”
“The Pack Council takes such matters very seriously,” I continued smoothly. “Especially when it involves pack leadership
positions.”
Rachel scrambled to her feet, panic replacing her previous rage. “You can’t do this!”
“I already have.” I maintained my pleasant smile. “The Pack Council will banish all of you.”
As if on cue, the door swung open. Four muscular wolves in the distinctive gray uniforms of Pack Enforcers entered the room.
Their expressions were grim and professional.
“Derek Winters, Rachel Adams, and minor Oliver Winters,” the lead enforcer announced. “By order of the Pack Council, you are
to be detained pending your exile hearing.”
Derek’s face paled dramatically. “Exile?” he choked out.
Two enforcers moved toward Derek and Rachel while a female enforcer approached Oliver gently.
1/3
The Ultimate Revenge
“Come with me, little one,” she said softly.
Oliver’s grip on my legs tightened painfully. “No! Mommy, please! I’m sorry!”
His face crumpled with fresh tears. “Please don’t let them take me away!” (1)
I kept my expression neutral as I gently unwrapped his fingers from around my legs. “This is the consequence of your choices,
Oliver.”
“Please!” Derek fell to his knees again, reaching for my hands. “Olivia, you can’t do this! He’s just a child!”
The enforcers pulled him back, restraining his arms.
“Olivia!” Derek called desperately. “I’ll do anything! Please!”
Rachel had already been handcuffed and was being led toward the door. She struggled against her restraints.
“This is your fault!” she screamed at Derek. “You promised me everything would work out!”
The female enforcer was trying to coax Oliver away from me, but he fought with surprising strength for his weakened state.
“Mommy!” he wailed, his voice breaking. “I love you! Please forgive me!”
I watched impassively as they were led from the room, their pleas and cries echoing down the hallway. 2
Sarah stood frozen beside me, her face pale with shock. “Dr. Winters,” she whispered, “are you sure about this?”
I straightened my lab coat and picked up my clipboard. “Absolutely.”
Months passed. I threw myself into my work, taking on more responsibilities at the treatment center. Without the financial burden of supporting Derek’s failing business or Oliver’s expensive treatments, I had more than enough money to expand my
practice.
Occasionally, news would filter back to me about the exiled trio. They were all sentenced to 5 years of exile. It wasn’t long before
word reached me that Rachel had been abandoned and killed by a gang of bandits on the way to their exile location.
Derek and Oliver barely survived by hunting in the forest every day. Reports from pack scouts described a gaunt man and small
boy living in a crude shelter they’d built themselves. The boy was often sick, the man increasingly desperate.
I listened to these reports with detached interest, like hearing about characters in a story that had nothing to do with me.
Meanwhile, my reputation as a healer continued to grow. Wolves from other packs traveled great distances to seek my treatment.
With my newfound wealth and freedom, I established my own independent medical institution–the first of its kind in our
region.
The years passed quickly. I barely noticed the anniversary of their exile until Sarah mentioned it one morning.
“They’re eligible to return today,” she said quietly as we reviewed patient files. “Derek and Oliver.”
2/3
* Rey
Later that day, a guard I’d hired informed me that two figures had appeared at my gates.
“A man and a boy,” he reported. “They say they’re Derek and Oliver Winters.”
I continued reviewing financial reports for the center. “Don’t let them in.”
Day after day, they returned. The guard’s reported that the man and boy would arrive at dawn and leave at dusk, kneeling outside my gates regardless of weather conditions.
“The boy doesn’t look well,” one guard mentioned after a particularly cold night.
“Not my concern,” I replied dismissively. 1
The days turned into weeks. A month passed with Derek and Oliver maintaining their vigil outside my gates. Occasionally, I would glimpse them from a window–a gaunt man and a too–thin boy, their clothes ragged, their faces weather–beaten.
Oliver was no longer the chubby, healthy–looking child I remembered. Even from a distance, I could see how exile had changed him. He was taller but painfully thin, his face serious beyond his years.
Derek looked like he had aged twenty years instead of five. His hair was streaked with gray, his shoulders permanently hunched
from years of hardship.
I watched them sometimes, hidden behind my curtains, feeling nothing but a cold satisfaction that justice had been served.
My medical practice continued to thrive. I became the most powerful healer in the entire northern region, my name spoken with respect and awe throughout the territories.
It is said that they kneeled outside my door for a full month, but I never went out to see them. I became the most powerful healer
in the entire northern region, and my medical practice grew increasingly successful, but I will never spend a penny on people who
are not worth it.
