When I wake up the candles are still dimly glowing but Candi is gone. In the dark outside the windows, bright white snow is falling at a fast clip. My mind is curiously free from worry, although there is much I could worry about: where Lila is, what I'm going to do in the middle of a blizzard without a winter coat, even whether or not Candi is okay. I wonder when Candi will come back, if after dawn is her usual time.

Hours pass. The candles flicker.

I can't say whether I sleep or not, but suddenly I become aware of someone opening the door in the other part of the warehouse. I must have been asleep – how else could I have missed the sound of footsteps crunching through snow?

I'm on all fours, crouching beside the door that separates the two halves of the building, peering through the crack between the door and the frame before the intruder has even fully opened the door. My entire body is ready and tense. Cold is no longer an issue.

Practically in slow motion, the outside door swings all the way open. I strain to get a view of the intruder but all I see is a sliver of jeans, a slice of long hair. Another girl? The wind blowing in offers more than my vision. A girl. A familiar girl, wrapped in my scent.

"Kayla?"

My voice is high and squeaky. I push open the door and stare. Kayla. She's here

(it wasn't a dream)

And she's wearing my coat, my extra pair of jeans. Probably my extra t-shirt under the coat. Carrying my backpack, too. But mostly I'm staring at her face.

She's real. I have to walk right up to her

See what's in front of your eyes

and put my hands on her face, feel her skin, smell her woodsy scent, before I am sure: this is real.

(how much else is real?)

"You're really here," I say. A smile is growing on my face.

"Duh," she says.

"You took my coat. I was cold."

She stares at me. "I would have frozen to death going to get help for you if I didn't."

I'm so happy to see her that I don't understand why she sounds angry. "What's wrong?" I ask.

"What's wrong? God, Daniel!"

She drops the backpack to the floor and shuts the door, starts peeling off the gloves.

"First, you can barely take care of yourself. Second, you refuse to control yourself. And third, you freak out at the drop of a hat. You can't even figure it out after three freaking years. Seriously, it's like you're blind. Or retarded!"

Shut up you little retard – slap –

"Don't call me that," I snap at her. I blink, trying to keep away the blackness that suddenly pulses in and out.

Kayla takes a deep breath and says through gritted teeth, "Let's both just calm down, okay?"

More deep breathing from Kayla. I clench my fists up tight and then let the tension go. I don't want to hurt Kayla. I was so happy to see her – why did she have to ruin it?

"It's good to see you," I tell her.

She looks up at the ceiling and laughs. "Yeah. Good to see me. Okay."

I'm so confused. "How did you get here?"

At this she rubs her face with her hands, like she's wiping away a smile. "Okay. Let's go sit down. There's a bed, in there, right?" She indicates Candi's room.

"Uh, yeah – "

"Come on."

Pulled along by my sleeve, I follow Kayla into the warm glowy room and sit beside her on the smelly mattress.

"Well, this is cozy," Kayla says, looking around.

"Yeah, this girl named Candi lives here."

"Girl? You mean prostitute?"

"Yeah, I guess that's what she does."

"No kidding. I could smell it a mile away. Disgusting."

I'm not sure what to say or do. Luckily, Kayla takes over. She turns to me abruptly.

"Look, Daniel. I know it was traumatic for you and all, but do you remember anything about what happened that night you... that night my dad and your dad and Uncle Red died?"

"What do you mean? I don't remember killing them, but I know I did."

Kayla bites her lip. "Um, okay. How about if I ask it like this: did they look any different before you killed them?"

I know what she's talking about but I can't bring myself to say it. "I was sick. What I saw... it wasn't real. I was hallucinating or something."

"What did you see, Daniel?"

my father curling up, his arms growing and thinning and his face too, his mouth stretching and his joints bending in ways they should never bend, all the while his eyes on me... his yellow eyes

"No. It wasn't real."

"What did you see?"

"He– he– " I grip the thin quilt. I shake my head but that image stays with me. "He turned into a monster. He was a monster!"

"Not a monster, Daniel," Kayla says gently. "He turned into something. What did he turn into?"

"A wolf," I say.