Harry came over a lot. His mother and Hannah’s had begun having coffee every week, which Hannah knew really meant sitting on the sofa and talking about their children. Hannah and Harry were always sent out of the living room and told to entertain themselves for a few hours.

“We can’t even be in here?” said Hannah, wanting to listen in.

“Sometimes, parents need time alone with their friends. The same way that you and Harry wouldn’t want me hanging around every time the two of you got together.”

It wasn’t the same thing, and Hannah’s mother knew it.

Still, Hannah and Harry had fun when they were together. Once, they spent hours building a fort out of couch cushions, pillows, a rocking horse, and Gulliver’s duvet. Another time, Hannah successfully managed to sneak a jumbo pack of marshmallows out of the kitchen. She convinced a reluctant Harry to lick the bottoms of each marshmallow and throw them at Tom and Andrew’s bedroom ceiling, where they stuck fast. To her brothers’ credit, they never told on them. Hannah privately suspected this was because they got to eat them as they fell down.

Where she could, Hannah did eavesdrop. Sometimes the coffee dates took place at the local Starbucks, which meant that threads of conversation made their way into Hannah’s keen ears, even as she and Harry sat at a table across the room.

One of the first things Hannah overheard was the story of how Harry had been bitten when he was only four. Apparently, the Lucas family had lived in Curnow even before the bite; they’d had the bad luck to have a lycanthropic neighbor with an unfortunate habit of forgetting about full moons. Harry got apologetic birthday cards from him every year, usually with money inside. His parents forbade him to write back.

To Hannah’s delight, her own mother talked about how desperate she’d been for a daughter until Hannah arrived. How, when she found out she was having twins, she was absolutely sure that one of them would be a girl – until they weren’t. How she hoped that Hannah would always feel a special connection to her, even when she was all grown up. Hannah knew that her mother loved her brothers just as much, but she still enjoyed hearing her mother talk as if the mere fact that she existed was somehow impressive.

The not-so-nice conversations happened too, and significantly more often than the nice ones. Hannah never fully understood them, but that didn’t make them any more fun to hear.

“…I just can’t seem to get rid of them,” Hannah’s mother said once, her voice tight. “I’ve done everything they tell you to do. I’m trying so hard to relax… and Max is a huge help… but they just keep coming back…”

“It’s hard,” said Harry’s mother. “And it’s only natural. The important thing is that you don’t let them control your life.”

“If I could do that, they wouldn’t be a problem in the first place, would they? I just… every time I see her… and every full moon… and there’s nothing I can do, nothing I can say… because it’s a mother’s job to protect her children, isn’t it? Max thinks I should see someone… but I’m not sure…”

Hannah usually stopped listening when the conversation went in this direction. She still hadn’t forgotten the way her mother’s face had looked at the hospital in Wisconsin.

She supposed she had gotten used to full moons, as much as anyone ever could. Once a month, her eyes changed, and she felt the moon thrumming in her temples. Her mother drove her to the hospital, where Hannah practiced Morse code with Harry until her head hurt too much to continue. Then it was back down to the hospital basement, where she and Harry tapped secret messages on the walls until the wolf’s mind swallowed her whole. She slept off the aches and the bruises and told herself firmly that none of it mattered.

Hannah had also learned a little more about the way lycanthropy was perceived at Trevarthen. She hadn’t thought about how or whether people would find out, but she soon learned that they already knew – whether she wanted them to or not.

When she first realized this, she spent the entire day in a huff. It seemed obvious to her that it was Harry’s fault. She tracked him down at the end of the school day so that she could shout at him.

“You weren’t supposed to tell them! Chloe asked me when the next full moon was. She knows, Harry! And then Connor talked about it, too! My whole table knows!”

“I didn’t realize that you hadn’t –” Harry started.

“Most people our age have never even heard of lycanthropy! It’s not fair! Now they’re all going to feel sorry for me and give me weird looks and stuff, and – and it’s all because of you!”

She noticed Ella approaching them curiously from the other end of the blacktop. Hannah looked away from her.

“Hannah,” said Harry. “I didn’t tell them. Or… maybe I mentioned it to a couple people, but not in a big way. Everybody knows about that stuff here. Even really little kids.”

Ella caught up to them and put an arm around Hannah’s shoulder.

“Harry’s right,” she said. “It’s because we live in Curnow. So we have to be extra careful in case one of the patients at the werewolf hospital forgets about transformations or something. We get notes every full moon day after school – look, I think I still have one from before. I always forget to give them to my parents.”

She rifled through her backpack and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. She handed it to

Hannah, who took it disbelievingly.

Dear Parents, it said.

This is just a routine reminder that the full moon will rise at approximately 7:18 p.m. EST this evening. The town of Curnow is committed to halting the spread of lycanthropy, but slip-ups can and do occur. Please utilize the following tips to help keep you and your family safe:

1. Avoid going outside after dark.

2. Lock your windows and doors.

3. Report any suspicious-looking individuals you might notice before sunset.

4. If you see or hear a lycanthrope post-transformation, call 911 immediately.

We also recommend talking to your child about lycanthropy and the full moon. Come up with a family plan in case of an unexpected encounter. The more prepared your child is, the safer they will be.

Hannah handed it back.

“I don’t like that,” she said, mostly to Harry.

“But you see that what we’re saying is true,” he said, putting his hands on his hips.

“You haven’t proved it.”

“Yes, we have,” said Ella. “I just showed you the note, and I told you that I knew about werewolves already. We had a school assembly about it. And I’ve known about Harry since I was six.” She paused a second. “Are you mad at me?”

“Yes,” said Hannah.

“Why?”

“Because I didn’t want you to know.”

“It’s not my fault,” said Ella. “I mean, it was easy to figure out. You never come to school when it’s a full moon or the day after, either.”

“Then I’ll come to school when it’s a full moon and the day after, too.”

“Hannah,” said Harry softly. “Why does it matter what people think? They’re just people. If they have a problem with it, you ignore them. They don’t matter.”

“I don’t care if you’re a werewolf or not,” said Ella. “I guess sometimes people are scared, because they’re afraid they’re going to get bitten, but I know you’re not going to bite me. You’re my friend. And besides, I’m brave.”

No, you’re not, Hannah thought.

“Why don’t you want us to know?”

Hannah played with her ponytail. She realized she didn’t have a reason – not a real one. She just didn’t like it.

***

After two years of coffees, moon cycles, and Morse code lessons, Hannah entered fifth grade – her last year in Trevarthen’s lower school. This meant that her teachers were preparing Hannah and her classmates in earnest for middle school. They had extra classes three times a week, where they learned about alcohol, their changing bodies, and what it meant to be a teenager. Hannah, Ella, and Harry spent most of these classes in fits of giggles.

Hannah greatly enjoyed being able to come home and tell her brothers what she had learned.

“Basically, we’re going to grow a lot of hair and be grumpy all the time,” she told Tom and Andrew. “Oh, and people are going to try to make us smoke drugs and drink beer. Is that true?”

Tom and Andrew glanced at each other.

“Which parts?” said Andrew.

“I don’t know. All of it.”

“Look at my chin,” said Andrew. “Do you see a beard?”

“No,” said Hannah, “but they said that stuff happens to boys later than girls, and also, you don’t only grow hair on your chin –”

“Well, we’re not grumpy all the time either,” said Tom quickly. “And we’re halfway through middle school, so we should know.”

“You’re grumpier than you used to be,” said Hannah. “Both of you.”

“We are not,” said Tom and Andrew in unison.

They were. Nowadays, Andrew spent most of his time in their room with the door shut, and Tom didn’t respond the same way he used to when Hannah teased him. More often than not, he yelled at her to go away, even if all she was doing was attacking him with a pool noodle.

“Middle school’s harder than elementary school,” Andrew explained. “There’s a lot more homework and stuff. So we have more to think about.”

“They told us that too,” said Hannah. “They said that you get more tired and more stressed because of hormones. And sometimes you get crushes on people. And sometimes you need deodorant. And with boys, their voices get lower. Do you think you have hormones yet?”

“No,” snapped Tom.

“Everyone has hormones,” said Andrew. “Including you.”

“I do not,” said Hannah delicately. “Some people in my class have hormones already – Ella’s definitely getting them; she’s really angry about it – but not me. I’m not going to have hormones until I’m at least thirteen.”

“It doesn’t work that way,” said Andrew. “You can’t just – control it.”

“Ella’s birthday is in January,” said Hannah, exasperated. “Mine isn’t until the end of May. So obviously I’m going to get mine later.”

“Han –”

“What about the beer thing? Has anybody tried to make you drink beer or smoke drugs?”

“You don’t smoke drugs; you do drugs,” said Tom.

“Do you do drugs?”

“No,” said Tom, looking even more uncomfortable. “There are some kids that do, though. Eighth graders, mostly, but I heard one of them sold Jasper Kennicott some weed. He’s going to smoke with his friends after school behind the gym tomorrow.”

“You said that you can’t say ‘smoke drugs,’ and then you said he was going to!”

“You don’t smoke drugs. You do drugs and you smoke weed. It’s just how you say it. You don’t want to go around sounding like an idiot. Even if you aren’t actually going to do it, it’s good to sound like you know what you’re talking about. People will respect you more.”

“Or you could just not talk about drugs at all,” said Andrew. “That works, too.”

“Andrew, just because you hang out with nerds –”

“We’re not nerds.”

“You are,” said Tom. “No offense, but everyone says it. I’ve heard you and Gregor and Simeon talking. You guys don’t like anything that doesn’t have to do with computers and weird books and stuff. I haven’t seen you play a sport since we left Wisconsin –”

“At least I’m not hanging out with potheads,” hissed Andrew. “At least I’m not following Patricia Pallant around like some stupid little puppy dog.”

Tom looked at him for a minute before lunging at Andrew’s face.

Hannah wasn’t sure what to make of it. She had never seen her brothers argue like that before.