The suitcase sat open on the floor like a mouth frozen in a silent scream.

  Half my clothes lay crumpled inside. The other half was scattered around it, shirts and jeans and socks thrown like evidence of a crime. One sneaker was still on my foot. The other had rolled under Hailey's bed, forgotten.

  I sat on the floor with my back against the bed frame and couldn't move.

  My body had burned through all its panic in the first ten minutes after I'd slammed the back door and sprinted upstairs, and now it was… empty.

  Like a house after a fire, still smoking, charred, yet pretending it wasn't ruined.

  Moonlight pooled across the bedroom floor in a pale rectangle, quiet and indifferent. Like a serpent, it slithered over my wrist, my knuckles, the zipper of the suitcase.

  I could almost feel it, its cold, aching touch.

  A wave of nausea rose, swift and merciless. I was on my feet, running to the bathroom before I emptied my stomach on the carpet. I barely managed to reach the toilet in time and heaved until nothing was left.

  My hands were shaking. My legs too. I barely managed to walk over to the sink to rinse my mouth.

  My gaze dropped to my hands under the stream of water, as if they belonged to someone else.

  Then it rose. To the mirror.

  I stared at my eyes. Brown irises. Normal pupils. Normal whites.

  No reflective sheen. No animal flash. No wrongness.

  Just me.

  I leaned in, held my breath, waiting for the light to shift, for the truth to reveal itself in the tiniest change.

  Nothing happened.

  My mind tried to latch onto that nothing as proof that I'd imagined the woods. Proof that I'd had a panic attack and my brain had hallucinated the impossible reflection in my father's eyes.

  But the deeper part of me, the part that had been collecting clues like coins, knew the difference between fear and reality.

  I had seen him.

  He had seen me see him.

  And he had begged me not to run. Begged. Like my running could kill us both.

  My throat constricted until swallowing hurt.

  A small sound came from behind me, a soft shuffle, fabric dragging across sheets.

  Hailey.

  I turned too fast.

  She was sitting up in bed, hair a wild halo, Mr. Winkle clutched in her arms. Her eyes were bleary with sleep. Confused.

  "Kelsey," she mumbled. "Why are the wolves so loud?"

  I went very still. Outside, the howls had stopped. Or maybe they had simply moved farther away. The house had fallen back into its old, suffocating quiet, but the echo of those sounds still sat in my skull like bruises.

  I forced air into my lungs.

  "It's okay," I said, and my voice sounded like it belonged to a stranger. "Just go back to sleep."

  Hailey blinked hard. Then she looked around the room, and her gaze snagged on the suitcase, on the clothes, on the chaos. Her lower lip trembled.

  "Are we going somewhere?" she whispered.

  The question cracked something in me, not a dramatic break, more like a hairline fracture that let pain seep through.

  "No," I said, not knowing whether it was a lie or the truth.

  Hailey's brow furrowed. She hugged Mr. Winkle tighter.

  "I want Daddy," she said, the way little kids did when the world suddenly lost its footing.

  I forced myself to move. I walked to her bed and sat on the edge, careful not to sink too deep, careful not to let her see my hands shaking.

  "He's… not here right now," I managed.

  Hailey's face crumpled.

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  "What do you mean?" Her voice rose. "He has to be here."

  My mind raced in frantic circles. Tell her the truth. Don't tell her the truth. Lie better. Make it make sense. Make it safe.

  Moonlight was receding now, giving way to the pale dawn. The first rays of sun were already creeping up from beyond the trees.

  A soft knock hit the bedroom door. I flinched so hard Hailey jerked too.

  "Kelsey?" Elise's voice, gentle as sugar. "Sweetheart? Are you awake?"

  My grip tightened. Hailey twisted in my arms. "Grandma," she called, relieved. "Where's Daddy?"

  A pause, short but noticeable.

  Elise's voice returned, still sweet, still controlled. "He's handling something, darling. He'll be back soon."

  Hailey sniffled. "I want him now."

  "I know," Elise said. "I know you do." Her voice softened in a way that should have comforted me.

  It didn't.

  It made my skin crawl, because I could hear something under it. Something that wasn't malice, but still had an edge.

  My gaze flicked to the lock on the door. Without thinking, I stood, walked over, and turned it.

  The click was loud in the quiet room.

  Hailey stared at me like I'd slapped her.

  "Kelsey," Elise said through the door, still calm. "Why are you locking the door?"

  "Because I'm not stupid," I whispered, too low for Hailey to catch, but not low enough to keep it from Elise's ears.

  There was another pause.

  "Kelsey," Elise said again, and now the sweetness thinned just slightly. "Stop playing games. Open it."

  I backed away from the door without meaning to.

  Hailey slid off the bed, clutching Mr. Winkle, small bare feet padding across the floor. She headed straight for the door.

  "Hailey, no," I said, too sharp.

  She froze, startled. Then she looked at me with wide, hurt eyes.

  "I want Dad," she said again, voice wobbling. "And I want to go outside."

  My stomach twisted.

  Outside.

  The word punched through me like a fist, because outside meant the yard, and the yard meant the woods, and the woods meant the thing I wasn't ready to say.

  I crouched in front of her, forcing my face into something gentle.

  "Baby," I said, using the voice Mom used to use when the world got too big. "Just stay with me for a second."

  Hailey's eyes filled. "Why are you acting weird?"

  I closed my eyes. Because I was trying to breathe while standing in the rubble of my world.

  "I'm not," I said. "I'm just tired."

  Hailey's gaze flicked to the suitcase.

  "You're lying," she whispered, and it shocked me because it sounded like me. Like Kelsey in a hallway, cornered by freaked out boys and lies and rules she didn't understand.

  A soft sound came from the other side of the door.

  Elise. Shifting her weight. Listening.

  "Kelsey dear," she said, quieter now, like she didn't want Hailey to hear something. "You're scaring your sister."

  I laughed once, bitter and breathless.

  "Me?" I hissed toward the door. "I'm scaring her?"

  Silence stretched for a heartbeat.

  Then Elise spoke again, almost careful. "Open the door. Let me help."

  Help.

  The word made heat flare in my chest, hot and ugly.

  I straightened, went to the door, and spoke through it with my forehead nearly pressed to the wood.

  "Is… Dad there with you?"

  A pause.

  Then, "He's not here," Elise said, and this time she didn't sugarcoat it.

  Something ugly settled in my chest.

  "Then where?"

  "We can talk about it when you open the door."

  Silence spread like water. Hailey rushed over, tugging at my shirt. "Kelsey, Kelsey, let me out!" She stomped. "I'm hungry and I want pancakes!"

  A headache was beginning to form beneath my temples. There was no escape. I couldn't keep us locked in here all day, and I wasn't sure the lock could even truly keep Elise away.

  I stared at the lock for two seconds too long.

  Then I turned it. The door swung inward.

  Elise stood there in a pale robe, hair braided over one shoulder, face composed. Perfectly normal. Perfectly human. Like last night had never happened.

  Jack stood a step behind her, fully dressed, hands in his pockets, watching me like he was evaluating an investment.

  His gaze slid briefly to the half packed suitcase, then back to my face.

  He didn't look surprised. Of course he didn't.

  Elise's eyes moved over me in quick assessment, my tangled hair, my bare foot, the other foot still in a sneaker, my trembling hands.

  Then her gaze dropped to Hailey, face softening.

  "Dear," she said gently. "Come here."

  Hailey hesitated, torn between wanting her and not wanting to leave me.

  I forced my voice steady, even as every word struggled free. "Hailey, it's okay. Go with her."

  She gave me a single look, then shuffled forward, and Elise knelt, scooping her up, pressing a kiss into her hair like any grandmother would.

  If I didn't know what I knew, it would have looked comforting. But now every gesture felt like a performance.

  Elise carried Hailey away down the hall, murmuring about pancakes, about cartoons, about being brave.

  The moment they disappeared, the air changed.

  Jack didn't move. He simply leaned a fraction against the doorframe, taking up space without effort.

  Elise came back alone. Her robe swayed softly as she walked. Her expression was still composed, but the smile was gone.

  "You were in the woods last night." It was a statement, not a question. "Now tell me exactly what you saw."

  My temples throbbed.

  "You know what I saw," I snapped.

  Elise's gaze didn't flinch. "Say it."

  The demand hit like a slap.

  I swallowed hard.

  "I saw Dad," I said, my voice cracking. "Barefoot. Shaking. His eyes were… wrong."

  Elise's jaw tightened. Jack's gaze sharpened.

  "I saw him," I repeated, louder now, like volume could make it real. "And I know you know. I know you all know. So stop. Stop pretending. Stop treating me like I'm insane."

  Elise inhaled slowly. Held it. Exhaled.

  Then she asked, so evenly it made me shiver, "Did he hurt you?"

  "What?"

  "Did Gabriel hurt you?" she said again, precise. "Did he touch you? Grab you? Did he do anything to you other than speak?"

  My throat went dry.

  "No," I whispered.

  Elise's gaze held mine. "Did Jack hurt you?"

  I stared, stunned by the question.

  "No."

  "Did I?" Elise asked.

  "No," I said again, though my voice trembled.

  Elise nodded once, like that mattered more than anything else.

  "Then listen and hear me well," she said softly. "No matter what you saw, no matter what you think you know, what matters is that none of us has ever harmed you. Not you. Not Hailey."

  I shook my head, anger and fear tangling.

  "That's not the point," I said.

  Her gaze sharpened, and she didn't look like Elise anymore. She looked like the thing that wore the mask of Elise.

  "That is exactly the point," she said, her voice low.

  Jack made a small sound, something between a laugh and a scoff.

  Elise didn't look at him. Her gaze held mine like steel.

  "What are you?" I asked.

  Elise almost blinked.

  Jack spoke for the first time, his voice low and calm. "You saw. You tell us."

  Heat crawled up my neck.

  The word that had been forming in my mind, unspoken, finally forced itself out.

  "Werewolves."