They said it was raining when I stumbled into town, past the boarders so poorly protected even a critically wounded ten-year-old could slip through. I had been walking for hours. I was told my feet were blistered and bloody with wounds that reappeared faster than they could heal, but that they paled in comparison to the thick slices covering my body. I couldn’t remember the pain, or the song they had said I’d been singing. I couldn’t remember the feeling of the rain on my face, or the mud in between my toes. The widow who had taken me in while I was sick and healing, who had begged her Luna and Alpha to take me off her hands once the night terrors and outbursts became too much, I couldn’t remember her either. My first memory began with him. The tender eyed doctor with the curly hair and friendly smile. I had giggled when his glasses slid off his nose and fell into my lap. Elijah was the first person who didn’t treat me like a problem in need of solvin

The moment Sylvia’s driver picked us up from the airport, I was determined to soak everything in. We drove through a bustling city, where the buildings were towers plucked from story books, so high that they kissed the clouds that surrounded them. People walked on pristine sidewalks free of cracks or holes, most with briefcases or cellphones pressed to their ears. Traffic thickened and thinned, becoming smoother when the two lanes we drove down opened up into four. It was at this point the trees began to multiply into densely packed forests, and the magnificent buildings grew scarce. During the drive I snagged Elijah’s phone and looked at the first map I could get my hands on. The Nightfall pack was named for the starry sky that overlooked the bowl-shaped valley it rested in, and was known for its Redwood trees, which stood taller than any other in the world. We drifted into a town where the buildings looked shiny and new. There were plenty of expensi

‘We’re actually doing this, Lacey. We’re going to college. Did you see how proud Elijah looked?’ I laughed, spinning in place while some obscure pop song trickled from my phone. ‘This is all he’s ever wanted for us…but you know we can’t back out now, right?’ She replied, and her uncertainty caused the first crack in my giddy exterior. I sucked in a breath, held it for seven seconds and exhaled just like my old therapist taught me. Even now I could see his face, speckled with deep lines and pock marks, that flap of greasy white hair over his head. Those long, drawn-out meetings where I talked about my feelings and lack of memories were my primary motivation to act normal. So long as I took my daily cocktail of medication and went to my bi-weekly appointments there was no need for a grueling three sessions a week. ‘We’re not going to back out.’ I insisted, determined to ride out this euphoric high for as long as possible. My romance novel infect

Her frame seemed even smaller from a distance and was swimming in the billowing fabric of her muumuu. Even with Lacey shouting ‘abandon ship’ in my head as she urged me to flee like a gazelle, there was nowhere for me to run. Norma’s face was impassive as she asked, “…you do this kind of thing often, child?” “No, of course not.” The lie came out much too fast and yanked my voice up an octave or two. Instead piecing together it’s shattered remains, I went into damage control mode. “I mean—only when I’m stressed…or in a new place.” “Both of which you currently are.” “Right…” I swallowed as embarrassment heated my face. “Look, I—" “This isn’t you freaking out about going to the University is it?” She asked, and just a hint of accent peeked through. “No, not at all.” I stammered. “It’s something I’ve done back at the old house. Look, Elijah knows about it. He and Sylvia have so much going on…I just didn’t want him to worry about me, especi

As I waited within the lunch line, I couldn’t help but scan the Dining Hall. There were rows upon rows of padded booths, each one pristine and new. Circular tables, much like the ones you’d see in a public school, filled the empty spaces. From afar, close to the wall of spotless glass that overlooked the back half of the courtyard, I could make out a salad and fruit bar. With a tray in my hands, I steered past the busiest part of the Dining Hall and towards the one empty table nestled in the back of the room. The Lobster Risotto and Chipotle Garlic Seaweed Butter spewed an interesting assortment of scents into the air. Each one was a different colored shred of silk, weaving around one another until their shades muddied and turned into something new. As I approached the table, I realized I’d been wrong. There was a single person perched on one of the round seats, an Asian girl with granite eyes and choppy layered hair. When she turned her head to stare me down