Jack hadn't told me not to share our conversation with Dad and Elise. He didn't have to. I had a feeling that by giving me that vague speech about moonlight and forest he'd already crossed some invisible line that made the whole talk our secret.

  It made me feel... Odd. I didn't know what I'd expected from conversation with Jack. Probably that he'd scare me. Maybe nothing. Definitely not this.

  I had to admit, although his presence still unnerved me, al least it was honest. No gaslighting. No lies. Not like the others.

  I respected that.

  ****

  The night settled quietly, the clouds pulling back like curtains before a starry stage.

  The moon rose white and fat, spreading its silver cape across the moist grass and silent treeline.

  Hailey fell asleep fast, spent from the playing in the yard and warm from the lavender bath. She curled on her side with Mr. Winkle tucked under her chin, her breath deep and even.

  I lay in my bed wide awake, listening to the old house whispering. The faint hum of the fridge downstairs, the rustling of old pipes. The soft drag of footsteps, creak of the stairs.

  Jack's words sat in my head like a thorn.

  Bright enough you see things most people pretend aren't there.

  If you're the kind who looks.

  I stared at the ceiling until my eyes burned. I had a gut feeling he was offering me a key to a locked door, yet opening them depended entirely on me.

  I didn't know what I might see if I decided to look outside. My heart thudded inside my chest. I didn't want to get up. But I also knew, with dreadful certainty, that this was the only chance Jack would give me. And if I didn't take it, I might forever be lost in dark.

  Finally, when the sound of footsteps downstairs faded, I slid out of bed and moved silently across the room. The floorboards were old, but I knew by now which ones creaked. I'd learned that one fast.

  I pushed the curtain aside just enough to see without being seen.

  The yard lay empty.

  Gentle wind toyed with the branches of nearby trees, catching them in a waltz of silver and shadow.

  I sat there for a long while, just watching the play of light. And then a corner of my eye caught a movement.

  Then another.

  And another.

  I stopped breathing, sitting up, spine straightening.

  Three figures crossed the yard in dead silence. I couldn't see their faces, because they didn't carry any light, not even a flashlight, but I recognized them by their silhouettes. Jack walked first, broad-shouldered and tall, in swift, firm steps . Elise's smaller outline followed him close. Dad trailed by her side, shoulders hunched in something that looked like resignation.

  None of them spoke.

  They headed toward the barn, then past it, straight toward the woods. I blinked and they were gone, melting into the shadows behind the treeline. Ice settled into the pit of my stomach.

  My pulse hammered in my chest, my ears, my temples.

  I glanced back at Hailey. She still slept soundly, lashes laying soft against her cheeks. Her fingers curled around the worn fabric of her teddy.

  I hesitated.

  This morning Jack had handed me a match and pointed at the woods. Dad's "no woods" rule screamed in my head. Now I had the strongest feeling the woods were the gasoline.

  This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

  And yet...

  If I let this pass, I knew I might never get another chance.

  I moved to the dresser and pulled on a hoodie, shoes, my hands trembling so badly I nearly tied my laces wrong. I grabbed my phone, then decided against it. The light would give me away. I slid Grandpa Gerard's pocketknife into my pocket out of habit, the weight of it a thin comfort.

  Stomach twisting, I looked at Hailey one more time.

  "I'm sorry," I whispered, even though she couldn't hear me. "I have to."

  Then I slipped out of the room.

  Down the stairs, slow, careful, then through the silent dark kitchen.

  The back door hinge creaked as I eased it open but nobody was there to hear. I swallowed my fear and stepped into the cold night.

  I crossed the yard quickly, keeping to the darker patches near the fence, relying on the bright light of the moon as my guided.

  The woods waited, tall, dark and empty of sound.

  I paused at the edge of the trees, took one more deep breath, then stepped between the trunks.

  The ground beneath my sneakers was soft and damp, layered with needles, moss and dead leaves. The scent of earth and rain rose around me, thick and alive. My breath rose in small clouds of mist in front of my face.

  I didn't go far. I told myself I wouldn't.

  Just enough to see whatever Jack wanted me to see.

  Just enough to confirm I wasn't losing my mind.

  A faint rustle sounded ahead.

  I froze, heart in my throat.

  Another rustle, closer.

  Then, without warning, a shape burst from the brush.

  I stumbled back instinctively, a strangled sound catching in my throat.

  It was... Dad.

  He sprung out of the bushes like he'd been thrown there, hair wild, matted, entangled with twigs and leaves and God knows what else, chest heaving. He was barefoot, his T-shirt twisted and inside out like he'd dragged it on in a rush, a forced decency. His skin was pale, almost ashen, his body trembling in a way that looked like pain.

  There was something very very wrong with him.

  "Kelsey," he rasped, and his voice was also wrong, hoarse, like if he had a flu or worse. He took a step forward, then stopped short, shoulders shaking as if he was struggling to stand upright.

  "What are you doing out here?" he demanded, and the words came too fast, too urgent, almost panicked. His head snapped left, then right, nostrils flaring, eyes searching the darkness behind me. "Where is Hailey? Who's watching your sister?"

  He took a step towards me. A strip of moonlight fell across his eyes.

  And in that moment I knew what was wrong.

  It was his eyes. His pupils were enormous, swallowing his iris and...glowing.

  No, not glowing, I realized half a second later.

  Reflecting. Like surface of still water, like mirrors. Catching the moonlight and throwing it back like an eyes of an animal when a car lights flash at them at night.

  I kept staring at them. They stayed wrong. The seconds ticked by and they stayed wrong.

  My lungs burned and I realized I wasn't breathing.

  My mind tried to force explanations into place. A trick of light. A panic attack. Some weird illness.

  But the deeper part of me, the part that had been cataloguing clues and patterns and slips of language, knew the truth before I could make myself say it.

  I could explain away everything else. I couldn't explain this.

  It wasn't human.

  His brow furrowed, eyebrows drawing close in worry bordering on fear. He took a step forward. "Kelsey?"

  I took a step back.

  I couldn't answer. My throat wouldn't work. He saw my face change. He saw the moment my sanity fractured. And in that instant something broke in him, too. His shoulders sagged as if he'd been struck. His breath hitched, sharp.

  "No," he whispered, and it didn't sound like denial of what I'd seen. It sounded like shock, like grief. Like a man watching the last remnants of his life collapse in a single second.

  I took one more step backward. Then another.

  Dad flinched as if my movement hurt him.

  "Pup," he whispered, pleading mixed with despair. He lifted his hands, palms out, a human gesture that looked practiced, learned. "Don't, please. Don't run."

  The words hit me like a slap.

  Don't run.

  Ethan had said it with regret.

  Dad said it like I was holding a loaded gun and he begged me not to shoot.

  My chest pressed until breathing felt impossible. Vision blurred.

  I took one more step back.

  Dad's body shuddered. His jaw clenched hard. His spine bowed for a fraction of a second like an invisible hand pulled at it.

  "Pup. Plea-"

  That was the last thing I saw before my body chose for me.

  I turned away and sprinted.

  Branches whipped my face. Leaves slapped my cheeks. My lungs burned. Behind me I heard a heavy thud, something big hitting the ground, followed by a sound that made my blood turn cold, a growl breaking into whimper, a low, fractured noise that was neither fully human nor fully animal.

  I didn't look back. I couldn't.

  I burst out of the woods and into the yard, sneakers skidding on wet grass. The house loomed ahead, dark and solid, the windows blind eyes.

  A chorus of howls rose somewhere beyond the property, dozens of them, layering one over another, the sound wrapping around the house, around me like a net, like bars, banging against my skull.

  I hit the back door hard, yanking it open, slamming it shut behind me with shaking hands.

  Silence crashed down inside, sudden and thick.

  I raced upstairs, took the steps two at a time, and slammed into my room.

  Hailey stirred, murmuring in her sleep, but didn't wake.

  I stumbled to the closet and yanked out my suitcase, my hands so numb I could barely grip the zipper.

  Pack.

  Get Hailey.

  Find the keys.

  Drive.

  Anywhere but here.

  My mind raced in frantic loops. The car was in the driveway. Dad's keys, where did he keep them, hook by the door, maybe, or his pocket, or the barn, God.

  I grabbed clothes, shoved them into the suitcase without folding, not caring. My heart pounded so hard it made my vision blacken. My hands shook so violently I nearly dropped the suitcase.

  Then moonlight slid across the floor and touched my wrist.

  I stared at my hand, frozen, as a thought rose from my mind like a ghost from a grave.

  If he wasn't human…

  Then...What the hell was I?