I trembled against the wall. The basement felt too small, too cold, too dark. I covered my face with my hands—only to draw them away when I caught a coppery scent. My hands appeared to be covered in dried crimson paint. That’s what I kept telling myself. It’s paint. Just paint. Nothing happened. Nothing-
“We can’t keep her down here.” Mom hugged herself. “It isn’t right.”
“And what about the people she’s hurting? Is that right?” Dad’s eyes narrowed as he looked at me. “You can’t control it, can you, Jesse?”
“I don’t even...” I pulled my knees to my chest and sobbed. The chains clinked. Mom crouched beside me, hand rubbing my shoulder.
“There is no right side to this.” Dad paced. “We can’t keep her here all her life. At the same time, we can’t endanger others. This isn’t supposed to happen every night. But Jesse seems to be different somehow.”
“What do we do?” Mom’s eyes were wet. “Could we renovate the basement? Make it warm, pretty?”
“That doesn’t change the fact she’s a prisoner. The police are going to have questions. If they trace Jesse here...”
“But how could they?”
“They took some of her DNA three years ago, when she got into a fight with that kid. Do you remember? She lied about it and-”
“Jesse has gotten a handle on her temper! She’s on the honour roll!”
Dad shook his head. “We thought it was teen angst, or depression. But, well...maybe her temper was related to her condition. A sort of...pre-hormonal phase. I don’t know much about...what she is. But I think she’s different from others of her kind. They’re only supposed to change once a night. Whereas Jesse...”
“Changes at random?”
“There must be a trigger.” Dad sat on the edge of my lumpy mattress. “A certain smell, an emotion, exposure to an allergen...”
“I was upset.” They looked at me. “Not...crying. Just angry. I went off to be by myself. I was thinking about it and thinking about it. How mad I was, I mean. At the teacher. She was so rude. And then...I woke up here.”
“We found you.” Mom stroked my knee.
“If she left any...fur, or blood, the police could use that to link her to the assault.”
“Assault?” My voice shot up. “But what happened? Am I losing my mind? What’s going on?”
“We saw what you were.” Mom shivered. “I didn’t think they were real.”
“What’s real?” I strained against the chains. “Tell me what’s happening!”
“You’re a werewolf.” Dad crossed his arms. “And the police may try to arrest you for injuries to Paul Marks.”
The room spun. The edges if my vision flickered; I forced myself to breathe. “The art student?”
“I don’t know anything about him.”
I covered my face and wept. “It can’t be him!”
“He’s not...your boyfriend or anything?”
I glared at Dad. “No! He doesn’t even know my name. He’s just...Paul. I like him. That’s all.”
“Maybe she was drawn to him...because she likes him.” Mom studied the ground. “She broke into his house. Maybe she followed his scent.”
The first part of Dad’s announcement caught up with my brain. “A werewolf?” I looked between them. “You can’t be serious.”
“We saw you. Mom was able to talk you down. By the time we got you into the car, you were already turning back.”
“Did you leave tire tracks at P...at the Marks household?”
Mom and Dad exchanged a glance.
“Well?”
Mom placed a hand on my knee. “Our first priority was getting you out of there.”
“And...Paul?”
“I called an ambulance in the house. I...”
“They’ll recognize your voice! Dad! You should have brought him here! Or driven him to the hospital!”
“There would have been more questions.” Dad shook. “I did what I could.”
There was a knock above. I sucked in a breath, and stared at the ceiling. Mom grasped Dad’s arm. He paled.
“I’ll answer it.” He shambled up the stairs.
Mom plucked a key from her jeans pocket. She took me by the wrist, and led me through the basement. She brought me to a bookshelf. She nodded to me as she pushed it; I joined her. When the shelf had been moved, there was a door. I took a step back. Mom shook her head, and motioned to the door. Voices grew louder above us.
“In!”
I crept through the door. Mom shut it behind me. I heard her grunt as she shoved the bookshelves back into place. Footsteps sounded outside.
“Mrs. Harmon?”
“Yes?”
“I’m Officer Reynolds. I wanted to ask you a few questions.”
My heart hammered.
“My daughter isn’t a suspect, is she?” Dad’s voice was angry. “She didn’t do anything wrong!”
“Mr. Harmon, please. This is a routine investigation. Jesse was a classmate of Paul’s. We’re just making the rounds.”
“Oh.”
“Is your daughter here?”
“No, I think she went for a jog.”
“Do you know where she was when Paul was attacked?”
“Asleep in her bed,” Mom said.
“That’s right.” Dad sighed. “She was. Ma and I stayed up. We were just about to head to bed.”
There was a silence. “Your daughter is jogging? Now?”
“She might be at the 7-11. She hasn’t had dessert yet.”
“Phone her.” His footsteps grew closer to the shelf. “I need to speak with her. It won’t take long.”
“Jesse is very sensitive. When she hears what happened to Paul, she’ll be devastated. I’d rather tell her myself,” Mom said.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Harmon, but we can’t afford to waste any time. That boy is fighting for his life in the hospital.”
Paul! Did I really hurt him that bad? Was it really me?
I drew my phone from my pocket. My finger hovered over the mute button. Then I threw it across the small space.
“What was that?”
“I’m in here!”
“What is this?”
“I’m hiding!” I trembled. The tears fell of their own accord. No matter how many I brushed away, they kept bursting out. “I did it!”
The shelf was moved, and the door flung open. Officer Reynolds was a man of middling height with a blond buzz cut and a moustache. His eyes narrowed as he looked at me.
“Jesse Harmon?”
I exited the space, so that I was a foot from him. “It was me. I hurt Paul.”
“She didn’t mean it.” Dad put himself between the officer and I. “She...loses control. When she gets mad. She wasn’t even angry at Paul. He was just...in the wrong place.”
Officer Reynolds pushed past Dad. “Tell me what happened, Jesse.”
I took a breath. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
The officer smiled. He rolled up his sleeve. I leaned forward: a faded bite mark sat in the crook of his elbow.
“It was you,” he said. “I knew I’d attacked someone.”
My breath caught. “You’re the one who-”
“Yes.” He nodded. “I bit you. But I didn’t hurt you badly. After you were bitten, you escaped. There was no report of an attack in the papers. But I knew I’d done something. My shirt was torn and there was blood on my shirt. And there was this.”
I hugged myself, and shivered.
He drew out a scrap of plaid fabric. “Is this yours?”
I took the piece. “This was torn from my shirt. I thought it was a dog.”
“Then it’s not...genetic?” Dad looked between us.
“No, Dad.” I grimaced. “When I got into those fights...that was just teen angst. I wasn’t a...werewolf yet.”
“When I saw Paul’s injuries, I knew what they were.” Officer Reynolds leaned against the wall. “I volunteered myself for the case. I went through the kids in Paul’s class. I figured the beast would be drawn to him through familiarity.”
I blushed.
“I don’t know why I attacked you. I don’t remember what happened. I do know it was a full moon. But you’re not like other werewolves, are you, Jesse?”
“Why am I different?”
“Because of hormones? Because you’re young? I don’t know. What I know about werewolves is also from horror films. I’ve only been one for three months, and nothing I’ve looked up has helped me. I mean, I didn’t need to know when Lon Chaney’s birthday was!”
“But who bit you?” Dad frowned.
“I don’t know. He just looked like a dog to me.” Officer Reynolds turned to me with a grimace. “There’s more. But it won’t be easy to hear.”
My shoulders tensed. Mom wound her arm through mine. Dad winced.
The officer turned his hat in his hands. “Paul sustained bites. If he lives...”
Mom caught me as I fell.
My mouth popped open. “Paul!”
“I will explain everything to him.” Officer Reynolds put his hat on. “I have to go to the hospital now. I’ll be in contact. With...both of you. We can figure this out together.”
“Thank you, officer.” Mom nodded.
“Yes, thanks.” Dad shook his head. “This is...”
Officer Reynolds held out a card. “Only call me at this number for lycanthropy questions. It’s a private number.”
I took the card. “Thank you, sir.”
“I will tell Paul what happened.” He wheeled towards the stairs.
“Wait.” I bit my lip. “Can I come with you? I mean, can I talk to him?”
The officer sighed. “If you think you’re ready.”
“I’m not.” I laughed. “But he deserves to hear it from me. It’s my fault.”
“Fine. But you have to prepare yourself for the worst.” His eyes narrowed. “There’s no telling how the curse will change him, even in his human state. And if you start to turn, it goes without saying that I’ll have to taser you.”
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