The end of August arrived, and with it, Hannah’s first week at her new school. For reasons she still didn’t understand, her mother had arranged for her to start at a different school from her brothers, one that began three weeks earlier and required an ugly uniform – a gray jumper over a pale blue blouse. The school was called Trevarthen Academy and taught students from pre-kindergarten all the way up through high school.

“Why aren’t Tom and Andrew going here?” said Hannah, as her mother drove her up and down Curnow’s scrubby green hills. Ragweed and goldenrod bloomed at the side of the road, heralding the coming fall. They passed the shopping area, with its blue and white awnings, and Curnow Hospital, with its mass of beige-colored bricks beneath a glowing entrance sign.

“Tom and Andrew didn’t get a scholarship,” said her mother. “You did. Look, we’re here. It’s – not bad, is it?”

It looked nothing like Hannah’s old school. She couldn’t help gawking as her mother swung the car into the parking lot. It wasn’t a school so much as it was a village, with towering stone buildings connected by a series of pathways; massive, pristinely kept sports fields; and even a little forest bordering the edges.

“I’ll walk you in,” said Hannah’s mother, her voice tense. “I want to make sure the teachers know who you are.”

They stopped by the front office, where Hannah’s mother and the principal had a short, boring conversation, and then Hannah was led off to her class, which was taught by a woman called Stephanie.

“We call teachers by their first names here,” she said, beaming at Hannah so brightly that she grimaced. “No Mrs. this and Mr. that. You’ll get used to it pretty fast.”

Hannah didn’t think so, especially since the names weren’t all that was strange about Trevarthen. Her class at home had contained only fifteen students; her class here had twenty-six. According to Stephanie, this was because the students were supposed to help each other. On their first day, they were organized into four groups and assigned seats at large, round tables that were scattered across the classroom. Each group was given a different task to work on while Stephanie circled around and helped.

Hannah wasn’t sure what to make of her table. There were seven children altogether: Ella, Chloe, Ira, Connor, Aimee, Kieran, and Hannah herself. They looked friendly enough, but it was obvious that they had known each other since kindergarten and had long since stopped finding the teaching style strange.

“You’re new,” said Ella, who sat next to Hannah. She had thin blonde hair that stuck up around her head like a halo.

Hannah shrugged. It was probably best to pretend she didn’t care. “I know.”

“Where’re you from?” said Connor, a small boy with more freckles than Hannah had ever seen.

“Wisconsin,” said Hannah. “Milwaukee. My old school was really different.”

“Well, you’ll like Trevarthen,” said Ella with confidence. “It’s the best school in the world. My mom always says so. She went here when she was our age. And my three older sisters do, too.”

“You have sisters?” said Hannah in spite of herself. “Three of them?”

“Mmhmm,” said Ella. “But they’re annoying. How about you?”

“Brothers,” said Hannah, sighing. “Four of them. I bet they’re more annoying than your sisters. They never stop talking. And I’m always stepping on their LEGOs.”

“Wow,” said Ella.

They gazed at each other with jealousy.

“Can I come to your house?” said Hannah.

“Can I come to yours?” said Ella eagerly.

They shook hands and agreed.

With Ella as a friend, it wasn’t difficult to get to know the others – at least well enough to poke Ira when she was bored and pretend it had been someone else, or tease Kieran about being in love with Stephanie. Trevarthen was an okay place, Hannah admitted after a week or two. Even if it was a weird one.

***

Hannah stiffened as her mother dragged her through the parking lot. Each footstep brought them closer to the ugly brick of the hospital, which Hannah was certain was based on the same designs as maximum-security prisons. They went inside and squeezed into an elevator, because Hannah’s head hurt too much to walk up the steps. It took them eight floors up, to the very top level.

Lycanthropy Ward, said a sign just beyond the elevator doors. No entry without appointment. Waiting area strictly monitored. Please have your ID ready.

“I don’t have an ID,” said Hannah hopefully.

“I do,” said her mother.

They went a little further. There was a large desk and a dark-haired woman with a sharp chin.

Hannah’s mother looked at her anxiously. “We have an appointment for nine o’clock?”

The woman studied them. Her eyes lingered on Hannah for much longer than Hannah was comfortable with.

“And the name is?”

“Cobham.”

“Hannah Penelope?”

“Yes.”

The woman pressed a wide silver button that was set into the wall. Hannah and her mother stood awkwardly to the side, watching.

After a few minutes, a set of double doors behind the desk swung open. A fairly young woman with blonde hair pinned on top of her head strode out to meet them. She was followed by a man with broad shoulders and thick-framed glasses. Both of them were smiling. Hannah instinctively crossed her arms over her chest.

“You guys can come back,” said the woman, gesturing towards the doors. She had an English accent. “I’m Rose.”

“I’m David,” said the man. “And thanks for coming early. I know it’s an inconvenience, but we thought it might be easier for Hannah if she had time to look around a little.”

“No apologies needed,” said Hannah’s mother. “Max and I fully agree.” She held out her hand for Rose and David to shake. Hannah gazed straight ahead, past Rose, who seemed to be trying to look her in the eye.

They followed the doctors behind the desk, around a corner, down a long hallway with several unexpected turns to it, and into a room with a door that Hannah’s mother seemed to find interesting.

“Pink for Rose,” Rose explained. “One of my patients did it.”

Her office was a cozy little place with several cushy sofas, three shelves overstuffed with books, and a desk that was swimming in papers. She sat down on one of the couches and gestured to another, where Hannah perched, tensely, on the edge.

“So here’s the deal,” said Rose. “I don’t feel I need to check Hannah over at this stage. I can learn a lot more about her based on the answers to a few questions I’m hoping to ask. We’ve got the files that her doctors in Milwaukee sent us, but for obvious reasons, we aren’t going to treat them as the gospel truth. The idea is to make Hannah as safe and comfortable as possible during her time here. And you too, of course, Grace.”

Hannah got the feeling that Rose was trying to direct most of what she was saying to her, despite the fact that she appeared to be speaking to Hannah’s mother. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that.

“Now then. As we discussed earlier, I’ve got a clipboard full of rather tedious information for you to fill out. While you’re doing that, I’d quite like to chat with Hannah. Of course, if you’d rather stay, I won’t prevent you. It’s entirely up to you two. But I have found that sometimes the patient feels a bit freer when their parents have left the room.”

Hannah’s mother winced and then recovered. “I – well, yes, if you think that’s best. But Max and I, we just wanted to make sure – you and Dr. Arkwright are the only doctors here? There are only the two of you?”

Rose and David exchanged glances, as if they were used to this question.

“We’re still the best hospital in the world for lycanthropy, in anyone’s book,” said David. “It’s just that we don’t usually need more than two doctors. You can say what you will about lycanthropy, but it does have the advantage of running on a very specific schedule. There are only a couple days a month when there’s any point in having more of us here. And there are about six part-timers that show up for that – they’ll be here in an hour or two. But usually it’s just me and Rose. And when it comes to the kids, we try to give them a little more stability by having it be just me and Rose for full moons, too.”

Hannah’s mother nodded, babbled a little about how kind he and Rose were being, and went out the door with the clipboard Rose handed her. Then it was just Hannah and the doctors.

Well. She certainly wasn’t going to be the first person to say something. She tapped her fingers in a soft rhythm on the corduroy cushions on the couch. She kept her gaze away from theirs.

“Right,” said Rose. “So you’re Hannah.”

Hannah nodded very slightly.

“And you’re eight years old, and you’re from Wisconsin, and you’ve only just moved here. And that’s all we know about you! I hope we’ll get to know you a bit better as time goes on. But for now, I’m afraid, we’ve got to concentrate on the lycanthropy bits. Not my favorite thing to talk about. Even though it’s my job.”

Hannah gave a loud sigh, trying to insinuate that none of this interested her in the slightest.

“It’s rewarding, though, I’ll give it that. Do you know why I started working here? I had a boyfriend who had lycanthropy. Gwyn. He left me a few months later, but I kept the job. Silly prat.”

“What happened to him?” said Hannah, before she could stop herself.

“Not a clue,” said Rose, the corners of her mouth turning down slightly. “Could be doing anything. Now, your mum says that the last hospital you were at was a very unprofessional sort of place – they were really quite mean to you, she said. David and I want you to know that if there’s anything at all that makes you uncomfortable tonight – or any other night, for that matter – you should tell us right away. We want to make sure you feel at home whenever you have to spend time here.”

Something flared inside Hannah’s chest. “I’m not going to spend time here,” she said.

Rose and David exchanged another glance.

“They did tell you, didn’t they?” said David. “Your parents?”

“I’m not coming back.”

“But if you did,” said Rose, “I hope things would be better than they were before. David and I would try to make it that way.”

Hannah gritted her teeth and crossed her arms again.

“Can I ask you about your symptoms, Hannah? Whether you’ve been feeling any different at all since you got the bite? Most of the time, of course, you probably feel the same. But a few things might be different. You probably smell things a little more strongly than you used to. Or you might be able to hear a bit better.”

Hannah shook her head.

“That’s a no?” said David.

“No,” said Hannah stiffly.

“No, it’s not a no?”

“No,” said Hannah.

Rose laughed the kind of laugh that Hannah knew had to be done on purpose. “You really don’t like giving people straight answers, do you?”

“Dr. Trapp asked me that,” said Hannah. “In Wisconsin.”

“Oh. Well, we don’t like Dr. Trapp around here. Feel free to give me a different answer than you gave him.”

“I told him I didn’t,” said Hannah.

“That you didn’t have any symptoms?”

“Yeah.”

“And was that true?”

Hannah crossed her arms more tightly and watched her feet bump into each other.

“How about other symptoms, then? The kind you get just before the full moon? Like colorblindness – that’s the classic symptom – and then maybe cravings for foods rich in iron, like meat or green vegetables. Maybe headaches, probably some achiness or dizziness, especially on days like today. Anything like that?”

“I don’t know.”

Rose nodded, as if Hannah’s answer actually meant something. “And your transformations? I’ve got the report from the hospital in Milwaukee, but like I said before, we aren’t sure if we can trust what they’ve said. So we’ll need you to tell us a couple things.”

She plucked a manila envelope off her desk and tipped out a packet of papers. Hannah didn’t see how she could be sure it was the right envelope, since her desk rivaled even Tom’s in messiness, but it seemed to be, because she moved her finger down one of the pages and frowned. She mouthed something at David, who shook his head.

“They’ve got you down as a Type Three, Hannah,” said Rose, in a more businesslike way than before. “Do you know what that means?”

“Nobody tells me anything,” said Hannah softly.

“Hmm. I hope David and I will prove ourselves different. Now, your transformations from before, the ones at the facility in Milwaukee. The place where they took you on full moon nights. Do you remember anything about what happened to you there?”

“They locked me in a room,” said Hannah. “They didn’t let me out.”

Rose looked sober. “Do you remember what happened after that?”

“I was sick.”

“Sick how?”

“I felt sick.”

“And then?”

“I turned into a wolf,” said Hannah, growing impatient. “They said I did. And then I don’t remember anymore.”

When Rose didn’t reply, Hannah glanced upwards. Rose’s hands were tight around the packet of papers, and she was focused on something she was writing at the top of the page. Hannah was reminded of Dr. Trapp and the way he scribbled in his notebook every time he so much as looked at her.

All hospitals were the same.

Hannah retreated into the world that her growing headache had begun to pull her into. Tiny yellow sparks flashed on and off in places they didn’t belong. She watched them fade, holding her head, until her mother came back to kiss her goodbye.