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Chapter 9

The Black Lake Laboratory is nearly empty in the afternoon except for Marianne, my mom, and me. Marianne and I work in the basement — her, on museum stuff, and me, on storing random festival bits. She's far into the shadows and shelves, and I only know she's still there by the sounds of cardboard boxes and rolling Duck Tape.

It isn't only dark in the basement, however. The whole town is cast over with thick rain clouds, and I can still hear the weather even though I'm underground. The lightbulb above makes testy noises and flickers with the wind, and I continuously look up at it, hoping it doesn't go out.

Marianne emerges from the basement's far corner saying, "I'll be back," as she passes me on her way to the stairs. I watch her ascend and then her and my mother's voices go back and forth in muffled mutters.

I resume packing a box on the junk table consisting of small prizes to be used again next year: rubber ducks in varying costumes, headbands with bats on small springs, stuffed pumpkins in a variety of colors, and a plethora of seasonal toys.

I hear something fall on the ground from the depths of the basement where Marianne was. I pause my packing and venture back to make sure nothing is broken, and I find her makeshift workstation on an old empty bookcase. A folder is lying on the ground with papers spilling out of it, so I crouch, pick it up, and straighten all the papers before placing the folder on the top of the bookcase.

Not wanting to linger in the creepy back corners, I retrace my steps briskly and see someone coming down the splintering staircase before I reach the junk table. The steps groan and creek and a hand grabs the floorboards above. Harvey ducks to avoid hitting his head, and then his eyes are on me the rest of the way. My fingertips drag against the tabletop, and I anchor, feeling my panic settle around me.

"Are you looking for something?" I improvise. "I was just organizing some of the festival stuff. The vintage banner is upstairs...if that's what you're trying to find."

He glances up when someone's heels click directly above us, and his leather jacket sheens under the basement's faulty light. "No. I'm looking for you."

"Oh. Why?"

"Because you know."

I buckle, facing the table to escape his calm yet heavy gaze. I rummage through the already-packed prizes, pretending to look for something. "I know?" I question obliviously. "Why would I know why you're—"

"Abby exposed herself, and then she exposed me too."

My hands freeze. "She told you?"

Harvey's footsteps carry closer, so I face him in hopes he will stop, but he doesn't. He confirms, "She told me. "

"I-I won't tell anyone."

"You won't?"

He stops once I'm within arm's reach. My hands start to shake. "I won't, I promise," I say, my voice smaller than expected.

Harvey's head tilts slightly, but his attention is totally fixed. My heart hammers as I wait for his approval or any sign he won't take precautions to ensure his secret is safe, yet he maintains his poker face.

"Mia!"

My mom's call hooks me from upstairs. I slip around Harvey and head up the staircase, but I look back for just a second because I feel like I have to. Harvey watches me leave, and I do so without another word.

My mom collects me at the doorway from the hall into the Society room, and I see other society members settling into their chairs around the meeting table. "I lost track of time," she says. "Go on and go. Tell your dad to leave me some butter chicken."

She walks me through the museum and to the glass doors.

"Where's your coat?"

I face her. "Huh?"

"Your coat. It's raining. Did you leave it in the basement?"

"It's fine. Bring it home with you later — I parked close."

"Well, alright."

She holds the door and watches me jog to my car with my arms shielding my hair. I climb onto the driver's seat and shut the car door quickly so my seat doesn't get wet. The roof drums with continuous tapping, and all the windows obscure with thousands of splashes and watery streaks.

I lock the car, and then I take a deep breath, but it doesn't help. Harvey's still stuck in my mind — his image and voice and closeness — it's all so clear, I could close my eyes, reach out, and touch him.

I start my car and turn on the radio, needing to scramble my thoughts.

~•~

Friday morning while I'm home alone, the doorbell rings. I peek out the side window to see who it is, and I immediately recognize Abby's curls. I unlock and open the door in my house clothes — a pair of sweat pants and a long-sleeved shirt — and despite my sleepy, puffy eyes and messy hair, Abby jumps at the sight of me, brimming with positive energy.

"Hey, good morning," she greets and lunges forward to quickly hug me. "I know we talked about hanging out today and didn't really set a time, but I thought I would just come by since you said you aren't working until later."

I smooth the fly-aways sticking out of my hairline. "I just woke up like half an hour ago."

"Right. Not working means sleeping in." She makes a guilty face. "I'm sorry. I-I can come back in a bit if you—"

"No, it's fine. I just have to change and stuff. You can come in — no one is home."

I open the door wider for her and she enters the house. "It's been a while," she murmurs while glancing around. "You're mom redecorated."

"A few years ago, yeah. Perry spilled juice on the couch and suddenly a new couch dominoed into new everything."

Abby turns to me. "So Perry and Harper are at school?"

I nod. "And Mom and Dad are at work, so no worries about my mom pelting you with questions. Anyway, I'll go get ready. If you want a coffee or tea or anything, please help yourself. Mugs are in the cabinet next to the microwave and everything else is on the counter."

Abby drifts into the main room, so I dash upstairs and throw on jeans, a clean shirt, and a pair of socks. I then run into the bathroom to fix my hair and smear on deodorant. Abby is left alone for no more than five minutes, and when I return to her, she's sitting at the counter island sipping a hot drink. My nerves ease up at the sight of her; she must feel somewhat comfortable here.

"Hey," I chirp and walk around the other side of the island. "I'm ready for whatever."

She sets the mug down. "Oh, cool, because I had something in mind."

"Really?"

"Yeah, and I think you're gonna like it."

As per Abby's mystery plans, I throw on a jacket, and we exit out the back door, joining the forest through the fence gate. With an inkling of where this is going, I ask, "Are you going to transform again?"

"Well, the first time was all scary, and while I don't want you involved in all the craziness of being a werewolf, I don't want you to fear me either."

"I don't. It's just...new."

We continue to hike north.

"I know, it's really new and it takes getting used to, so I thought I would help warm you up to it."

"So this means you aren't shutting me out again?"

A moment of silence lulls between us until she says, "No. At first, I thought I should, but things change — opinions change. I realized that I've missed you so much these past years, and you handled the news so well, and..."

"Harvey confronted me."

Her feet halt. "What did he say?"

"That he knows I know because you told him I know."

Abby faces me. "Right."

"How come you told him? Doesn't that put you at risk? It didn't seem like he wanted me to know."

"There are things you don't know, Mia. I didn't want to tell him, but everything's so complicated. Even I don't know what I should and shouldn't do anymore. I thought revealing myself was the right answer — Harvey doesn't. I thought you should be kept far away from us — Harvey..."

My chest starts to ache. "How close are you to Harvey? Because at the festival, you acted like you didn't know him."

"I've known Harvey my whole life," she admits. "When we were younger, I knew him from a distance, but after my first shift, I became part of the pack."

"The pack?"

"The other werewolves here. We work together — our families have for decades."

"So you pretended not to know him?"

Abby sighs. "This all sounds like such a mess."

"It sounds like I'm missing pieces to the puzzle."

"Look, I just thought today could be a good day. I wanted to show you that sometimes being friends with a werewolf can be fun."

I shove my hands into my jacket pockets. "Do the other werewolves know? Are you going to get in trouble with them?"

"For once, no — I'll be fine. They know what's done is done."

"But Harvey didn't seem okay with it when he approached me."

"He didn't like that I revealed myself without permission."

"Would they have given you permission?"

Abby smiles anxiously. "No. Technically we're never supposed to reveal ourselves ever."

"Then why would you? Was it really worth my believing? Couldn't you have never told me any of it and cut me off again? I-I would be safe that way, which is what you wanted in the first place."

"I know. That's what I wanted, but..."

"There are things I don't know," I finish for her, and then I take a deep breath. "I wish you would tell me everything. I mean, I already know the meat of it, so why not just fill out the rest of the picture?"

"I would, but I can't. If I did, I'm pretty sure I'd be kicked from the pack."

"What could be worse than what I already know?"

Abby huffs. "One day, you'll find out, but it can't be from me."

I kick at the dirt under my feet. "You're so cryptic, you know?"

"It's super annoying. So maybe we can have fun like I hoped? They didn't say anything about revealing myself again and taking you on a ride."

My curiosity rears its head. "Ride?"

Abby grins and nods. "Ever wanted to ride a big, crazy fast wolf through the mountains? It's like a combination of horseback riding and going to an amusement park."

"I-I won't break my neck?"

"You'll be holding on. Besides, I'm pretty agile."

My lips part, but my refusal doesn't come out.

"So?" She urges.

"I guess if it's safe I—"

"Great! Let me just shift, and we'll be off." She heads into the brush but pauses, turning back. "Oh, and don't tell Harvey about this, okay? If you run into him, or anything."

"Yeah, of course."

Abby beams and finds cover to undress and shift.

I hold my smile until she's gone, and then I stare at my feet. Going on a joyride through the forest on a once mythical creature sounds amazing, but one factor is a thorn in this rose: Harvey. He's one of them — a werewolf — but why does everything seem to come back to him? What's done is done, the werewolves are aware that Abby revealed herself, yet I can't mention this to Harvey.

I lift my chin and survey the inclining terrain. Either Abby is telling me the truth, and the werewolves don't mind her hanging out with me like this, or she's lying that it's okay.

If there are missing pieces to this puzzle, one of them has to involve Harvey. Maybe he minds while the others don't.

Maybe, regardless of his demeanor in the past, he doesn't like me.

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