There were three nurses on Hannah’s hospital ward. Aina was the oldest, with thready gray hair and a sour expression. Leah and Erin were plump and thin respectively, but could otherwise have passed for twins, with expensive-looking blonde haircuts and eyes that narrowed often.

The nurses were there when Dr. Trapp wasn’t. Hannah liked Dr. Trapp even less than she liked them, but since he was only there an hour or two out of every day, it was the nurses she had to keep an eye on.

She had been in the hospital for one long, terrible week. The first few days were hazy in her memory, but once she was able to sit up and keep food down, she spent almost all of her time trying to reason with her parents. Her mother refused to do anything but stroke Hannah’s hair and cry, and her father drifted in and out of the room with a comatose expression on his face, saying little.

It was only a wolf bite.

“Yes, but it isn’t a normal wolf bite, either,” said her father.

“It was a wolf,” said Hannah, frowning. “I saw it. Anyway, I’m not even sick anymore. I haven’t thrown up in three days, and I don’t feel dizzy, and I want to go home.”

“I’m sorry, Han. You can’t. Not yet.”

Hannah stared at him, hoping he was joking. But neither of her parents had made a joke in days.

“Why?” she wailed – and to her horror, started to cry.

Then there was a lot of hugging and fussing and plaintive “oh Hannahs”, but still no explanation until she burrowed under her covers and refused to come out until somebody promised to tell her something. Anything.

“Fine,” said her father wearily. “You want to know why you have to stay? There’s a law. The wolf that bit you was – is – dangerous. It had poisonous teeth. And when a wolf like that bites somebody, they have to stay in the hospital for a long time. For four weeks.”

Hannah stared harder. “That’s a whole month.”

“Yes. So you have three more weeks to go. But you’ll have to come back sometimes, too. There’s another law about that. Because –”

“Max,” said Hannah’s mother, looking incredulous. “Dr. Trapp said –”

“I’m only giving her the basic outline,” said her father. “Nothing more. Hannah, you’re right. It doesn’t make sense. But it’s still the law, and that means we have to follow it.”

“Just three more weeks,” said Hannah’s mother soothingly. “That’s not so long, is it?”

“It’s forever,” said Hannah.

She dove under the covers before they could see that she was crying again.

***

The next two weeks didn’t do much to improve matters. The nurses barked at Hannah to eat disgusting meals with stale odors and greasy textures, and they made her sleep much more often than her body wanted to. Dr. Trapp, a balding man with tiny glasses and remarkably long eyelashes, stopped by every afternoon, scribbling notes he wouldn’t let Hannah see, asking her strange questions.

“Would you say that you’ve been feeling unusually bloodthirsty lately?”

“Have you done anything dangerous without realizing you were doing it?”

“Some patients report unusual dreams at this stage. Have you had any unusual dreams, Hannah?”

The answers, of course, were no, no, and only if you counted the daydream she’d developed about punching each of the nurses in the nose, but Hannah didn’t tell him that. She just shook her head.

Dr. Trapp always looked disappointed.

There was only one bright spot to being in the hospital, and that was that Tom and Andrew were allowed to visit after the first week. Gulliver and Moe were still too young, but Hannah didn’t mind. Having even two people around who treated her just as they always had made things exponentially better.

“You’re the center of attention even at home, you know,” said Tom, finishing a chocolate bar he’d bought from the vending machine down the hall. “It’s all weird and quiet, like someone’s died or something. And people keep calling, and asking how you’re doing, and Mom keeps going upstairs and having all these private conversations.”

“Which aren’t as private as Mom thinks they are,” said Andrew.

“Well, I might have picked up the receiver a couple of times,” said Tom, without looking guilty in the slightest. “But I mean – private conversations? In our house? Really? Anyway, they also talked for a long time about the wolf that bit you and where it is now and stuff. I don’t know why they care, but they definitely do. Mom even cried.”

Hannah groaned. “She’s always crying. Where is it now, anyway?”

“Jail,” said Tom. “I thought jail was only for people, but I guess it was a really dangerous wolf. The park police took it there.”

“Why wouldn’t they kill it?” said Hannah. She scowled. “I think they should kill it. Especially if it’s so dangerous that it goes around biting people.”

“Animal rights, I bet,” said Andrew. “Maybe it’s endangered.”

“Probably,” Tom agreed. “So then, after that, they kept saying – well, I thought it was weird.”

“What?”

“They could’ve meant anything,” said Andrew, with a sidelong look at his twin.

“What?” demanded Hannah.

“They kept saying,” said Tom, through another mouthful of chocolate, “that you didn’t know something. Aunt Celeste was all like, ‘have you told her?’ and then Mom got all strange and was like, ‘no, not yet’. Like there’s a secret.”

“I hate secrets,” said Hannah. “Keep listening, Tom. Mom has to let something slip before too long.”

But she never did.

***

When Hannah had been in the hospital for exactly three weeks and four days, she woke up with a peculiar tingling behind her eyes.

She opened them, and the world looked different.

At first she thought there must be some kind of film under her eyelids – the kind that had made them stick together when she’d had pinkeye a few years before. But blinking and rubbing them didn’t help. The world was still – strange. Not right.

It took Hannah a few seconds to realize it was because of the colors. In the night, all the reds and oranges and purples in the world around her had vanished, leaving streaky browns and blues and yellows in their place.

She put on her slippers and tiptoed out into the hallway, thinking that she would ask the nurse on duty whether this was normal for a wolf bite. She didn’t especially want to talk to the nurses, who still seemed to dislike her, but she didn’t know what else to do. She definitely didn’t want to ask her parents. Her mother would probably cry again.

Hannah went to the end of the hallway, where she knew the nurses’ station was located. She was only steps away when she noticed the sounds of three distinct voices chiming together.

Aina, Erin, and Leah – she was sure of it. She couldn’t recall a single time when all three had been on duty at the same time.

Hannah sat down behind the wall, where they couldn’t see her. She listened harder and was happily surprised when she discovered she could make out every word they were saying. She hadn’t realized her hearing was so good.

“…the papers came yesterday,” said Aina’s voice. “I’ve signed them, and so has Dr. Trapp, so all we need is a signature from Lervis. Remind me to give them a call this afternoon.”

“How’s that going to work, anyway?” said Leah, a little nervously. “Lervis, I mean? Who’s going to take her there?”

“Dr. Trapp,” said Aina. There was an audible tone of relief in her voice. “He says he’s excited about it. Says he’s never worked with one this young before. Wants to see if her symptoms tally with the olders.”

“For his award-winning paper, right?” said Erin. “That man.”

“At least he’s dedicated,” said Aina. “He thinks he’ll be able to ID her Type after only two months, which is a lot more than most places can do. With any luck, she’ll be gone by September. Out of our hair.”

Hannah drew away from the door, her heart pounding. They were talking about her – she was sure of it. She had no idea what “Lervis” was, or what Aina meant by her “Type”, but she had heard Dr. Trapp mention over and over again how excited he was to be “studying a victim of her age”, and he asked about her “symptoms” every single day. The idea that Dr. Trapp might want to take her somewhere made her stomach twist into knots.

But the thing that really worried Hannah was the way Aina had so casually suggested that she would “be gone by September”. Her father had sworn that she’d be allowed to leave the hospital in just a week. Could he be lying? Could the nurses be plotting to keep her at the hospital for an extra two months? And if so, why would they want her?

Hannah went back to her room, feeling shaky and confused.

She decided not to ask anyone else about her eyes, although the missing colors didn’t return. She told herself it was just a weird form of pinkeye, that it would be gone soon. However, she did mention the things she’d overheard to Tom and Andrew. Both of them were just as mystified as she was, although they assured her that the nurses couldn’t have meant what she thought.

“You’re definitely coming home in a week,” said Andrew. “Mom and Dad promised. Aunt Marissa’s making waffles.”

Hannah finally relaxed. If Andrew said it, it must be true.

All three nurses stayed on duty over the course of the next few days. They seemed to like Hannah even less than usual, because they stopped bringing her bacon and eggs for breakfast and started giving her slimy dollops of oatmeal instead.

“I hate oatmeal,” said Hannah, recoiling. “And it hates me.”

“I wasn’t aware that oatmeal had feelings,” said Aina crisply. “It’s this or nothing, I’m afraid. You’re on a special diet this week. No meat until Saturday. Doctor’s orders.”

“I can’t even have a tiny little piece of bacon?” said Hannah. “I’m not even sick anymore!”

“Are you having cravings?” Aina raised her eyebrows.

“No,” said Hannah. “But I’m not going to eat this. Not in a million years.”

“Starve, then. I have paperwork to fill out.” Aina swept out of the room without giving Hannah so much as a backwards glance.

Then something odd happened. The image of the bacon they’d been arguing about seemed to grow in Hannah’s mind’s eye, awakening something inside her. She didn’t even like the bacon that the hospital served – it was more rubbery than the eggs it came with – but the mere thought of the savory way it smelled suddenly made Hannah’s mouth water. She supposed it was the contrast to the watery bowl of oatmeal sitting in front of her. Oatmeal would make anything sound good.

She was in a very bad mood by the time Dr. Trapp arrived. He took one look at her and beamed.

“Oh, you’re feeling it now, aren’t you? Let’s take a look.”

He stayed much longer than he normally did. Aside from his usual questions, he also performed several tests. One of them involved Hannah looking at a chart with lots of bright, interlocking circles, and telling him what colors they were. Another involved sniffing a large variety of foods in bags and naming them based on the smell. The final test involved Dr. Trapp standing in a corner of the room and muttering things under his breath. Hannah, standing on the other side of the room, was supposed to tell him what he’d said.

“Well, well!” said Dr. Trapp at the end. “It looks like you’ve got all the typical symptoms. Deuteranopia… increased sense of smell… phenomenal hearing… and Aina tells me you’ve been craving meat? You’re a little bomb ready to go off, aren’t you?”

He smiled jovially. Hannah frowned. She had no idea what “deuteranopia” was, but she guessed it had something to do with the color test, which probably meant that Dr. Trapp had figured out what had happened to her eyes.

“I haven’t been craving anything,” she snapped. “I just want them to stop giving me oatmeal.”

“All in good time, little lady,” said Dr. Trapp. He gave her a wink that made her queasy. Then he wrote something down in his notebook and finally – finally – left the room.