Hannah didn’t bother opening her eyes the next morning. There was no point.

Eventually someone came and lifted her out, heaving her over one shoulder as if she were as flimsy and meaningless as a sack of garbage. Hannah bit her tongue and clenched her throat and tried to pretend that it didn’t hurt. Dr. Trapp was waiting in the ambulance, but Hannah didn’t even open her eyes to glare. If she looked at him, he would be able to see what he had done to her. She would not let that happen.

She slept for the rest of the day and almost the whole night. Every time she felt her brain going conscious, she squashed it back down again.

She was woken by the sounds of her parents’ voices. They were coming from the hallway, but Hannah’s hearing was as good as ever, and she could understand them even with the door closed. It helped that they sounded angry.

“– if you think we’re going to surrender our own daughter to that – to that place –”

“There has to be another option. And if there isn’t – then we’ll make one.”

“I don’t understand how you can even be sure. It’s only been two months – you can’t possibly have finished testing her already – everyone I’ve talked to says it takes much longer to really be certain –”

“I’m an expert in my field,” said Dr. Trapp mildly. “And she displays all the classic symptoms. The bruises – the loss of memory – the complete lack of control – it’s very clear, from my perspective. I think you’ll come to understand that this is for the best. Caring for a Type Three without the assistance of the Center would be a brutal task. Imagine what could happen if your mind slipped. I understand that you have other children?”

Hannah’s parents were silent for a second. But only for a second.

“Our minds won’t slip,” said Hannah’s mother. “We’re taking her home.”

“Then I’m afraid it’s my duty to call state police,” said Dr. Trapp. “I know this is upsetting. It’s not the outcome we hoped for. But –”

“But nothing,” snapped Hannah’s father. “You said yourself your order won’t come in until next week; that means we can discharge her. And then we’ll – and then we’ll –” He took a deep breath. “We’ll think of something.”

“Call me when you’ve had time to calm down,” said Dr. Trapp. “You’ll still be able to visit her. It will be easier than you think.”

Loud, furious footsteps stormed their way down the hallway and toward Hannah’s door. It opened with a bang. Hannah’s parents stood in the doorframe. Their hands were intertwined, and their eyes were on fire.

Hannah could only stare.

Her mother strode toward her. “Good. You’re awake,” she said. “I’m sorry, sweetie, but we’re going to have to leave now.”

She leaned over the bed, and Hannah looked into someone else’s face for the first time in more than a day. Her mother’s blue eyes were harder than she’d ever seen them.

“What were you talking about in the hall?” murmured Hannah. “You were yelling.”

“It doesn’t matter right now,” said her father, but his words came out too quickly. “You don’t need to get dressed, Han; I’ll carry you. Don’t try to walk.”

Hannah stiffened. “I’m pretty sure I can walk –”

“We don’t have time. Here – we brought you this.”

It was a hooded sweatshirt. Hannah blinked: it was the beginning of August and boiling out. Before she could protest, though, her father had already pulled it over her shoulders and scooped her up off the bed.

“Now,” he said in an undertone to Hannah’s mother. “Before anyone notices.”

She nodded. “Back door? The fire escape?”

“Let’s go.”

They ran, down the empty hallway and through a set of doors that Hannah had never noticed before. A narrow glass opening led to a balcony outside, which led to a great number of metal stairs, which jolted Hannah uncomfortably as her father sprinted down them. Finally, they reached the car. Hannah’s father opened the back door and helped her inside.

“Are we sneaking out? What was Dr. Trapp talking about? What did he mean about your mind slipping?”

“You’re too young,” said her mother. Her eyes weren’t hard anymore; they looked stricken. “When you’re older, maybe – but you’re safe with us. It’s going to be all right.”

“We’re going to have a chat with you and the boys once you’ve eaten something,” said her father. “Try to rest now.”

Just like the last time, her brothers were there at the front door to greet her. Gulliver slid his Nerf gun into her hand and told her she could shoot anyone in the family she chose. (Hannah shot Tom twice before her parents made her move to the sofa.) Pillows were propped up behind her head, a fuzzy blanket was thrust over her legs, and a plate of cinnamon toast and a mug of hot chocolate were placed on the coffee table.

When Hannah was finished with breakfast, her father came into the living room, his forehead knotted. “Mom and I wondered how you were doing,” he said slowly.

“I’m fine.”

“You still look a little tired.”

“I’m not.”

“Are your colors back?”

“Yes.”

“Well… In that case, if you feel awake enough, we were hoping we could talk to you and your brothers about – about something we decided this morning. It’s a pretty big deal, so we wanted to check to make sure you’re ready to hear it. But it seemed to me like you wanted some answers as soon as possible, so –”

“Yes,” said Hannah immediately. “Tell me now.”

“I’ll have to grab the boys first. But I’ll be back in a minute.”

He dashed off upstairs, and Hannah bit the inside of her cheek. “A pretty big deal,” he had said. What did on earth that mean?

Maybe – maybe he’d found out that she didn’t have lycanthropy after all. Maybe that’s why he and her mother had rushed her out of the hospital so quickly. They had finally realized that she didn’t belong there. That she never had.

But in her heart of hearts, Hannah knew that wasn’t it. Real life wasn’t like that. Terrible things happened; they happened all the time; and there was nothing you could do about them. No matter how much you tried…

Her mother cleared her throat as she entered the room. There were heavy bags under her eyes. Behind her came Hannah’s father, carrying Moe, trailed by Tom and Andrew and Gulliver. They sat down side by side on the floor, looking up at Hannah on the couch.

“We’ve decided that we’re moving,” said Hannah’s mother quietly.

“To Virginia,” said her father. “To a town called Curnow. In one week.”

The reaction was loud and instantaneous. Tom jumped up, his face contorted with rage. Andrew went a funny shade of pink and buried his head in his arms. Gulliver simply raised his fists in the air and screamed.

“That’s not fair!” shouted Tom. “You can’t just make us leave like that! I have friends! Andrew and I are starting middle school!”

“We’ve lived here our whole lives,” said Andrew in a small voice. “And you’re asking us to move in a week?”

Hannah was the only one (unless you counted Moe, who was happily sucking his thumb and watching the chaos unfold) who stayed quiet. She tried to think of something to say. She should be angry and upset like everyone else, shouldn’t she? She had friends, too, even if she hadn’t seen them in months. She had never lived anywhere except for Milwaukee.

“Why?” she said finally, in a voice that came out a lot more uncertain than she wanted it to.

“It’s complicated,” said her father. “A – grown-up kind of complicated. You don’t need to worry; nobody’s in trouble; but there are some things that aren’t – appropriate for eight-year-olds to know. Or ten-year-olds, either,” he said, glancing at the twins.

“We’re going to have to do a lot of work this week,” said her mother. “Most people take at least a month to move. We’re going to have to pack everything up in a few days. You’ll all help out, won’t you?”

“Where are we even going to live?” said Andrew. “You can’t have gotten a house that fast. Or a job – Dad, do you even have a job?”

“There are people we can contact,” said their father, a little stiffly. “They’ll help us out until we can get back on our feet.”

With that, the family meeting was over. Not long after, Tom and Andrew and Gulliver were all sent to their rooms for refusing to stop yelling. Hannah was left by herself with her empty mug of hot chocolate. She licked the bitter cocoa off the edge and thought.

They were moving because of her – she was almost sure of it. Because of something Dr. Trapp had said, something he’d wanted – something her parents were not prepared to give him. Something that had caused them to grab her and run, so that not even the hospital knew they had left. Something so awful that they couldn’t even tell Tom and Andrew what it was.

Hannah remembered what Dr. Trapp had said to her parents. Imagine what could happen if your mind slipped.

And the way it had made them quiet, if only for a split second.

***

The new house was cramped and creaky and smelled strongly of lentils. None of the lights seemed to work correctly, leaving the Cobhams in a perpetual state of dimness, no matter how many windows they thrust open. The dishwasher was broken (so broken, said Hannah’s mother, that she doubted it could ever have been functional), and the washing machine flooded the basement every time it was turned on. Worst of all, she had to share a room with Tom and Andrew, which meant tripping over their Pokemon cards every time she got up to use the bathroom.

Not surprisingly, the family spent a lot of time out of the house. Since Hannah’s father had been given a month’s break before starting the new government job he’d found, the whole family was able to go places together. Curnow was a very small town, but it was only about an hour and a half away from Washington, DC, so they went everywhere from the merry-go-round on the National Mall to the Spy Museum to the National Zoo.

Hannah refused to enjoy anything about these outings. DC in August was hotter and more humid than anywhere she had ever been, and being forced to march along the crowded streets as sweat trickled down her neck gave her lots to complain about.

“It feels like I’m drinking sweat every time I breathe in,” said Hannah, waving a hand through the thick, smoggy air. “It’s gross.”

“Welcome to Washington,” said her father. “Want to look at the pandas with me?”

“I hate pandas,” said Hannah. “They smell.”

“All animals smell a little bit.”

“I especially hate pandas. They smell a lot.”

She was hauled off to see the pandas regardless. They chomped on stalks of bamboo and looked wearily at their visitors from inside their enclosure. They stank almost as badly as the cheetahs had twenty minutes before. Hannah gave a loud sigh.

“Yes, well, maybe it is getting a little hot,” said her father uncomfortably. “We could stop at that gelato place we passed. You’ll like it.”

Hannah did like the gelato, but she was hardly going to admit it. Anyway, it wasn’t the ice cream she had shared with Aunt Marissa, which made it automatically inferior. She felt a painful stab in her chest as she realized she would probably never get to go to Luna’s again.