I was even more startled when I heard a tapping at the window, and I almost screamed.
Alexander was there, in his werewolf form, crouched so he could see me. He raised a hand to his furry forehead and gave me a salute very similar to that of the Boy Scouts; his face, although expressionless most of the time, let a certain joy and satisfaction show through at seeing me there with his daughter, perhaps. I smiled back at him and he went away; the window space was black and empty again. Everything seemed to be in order.
That should have been a good thing, right?
I don’t know why, but as I went up the stairs toward my bedroom with Sasha asleep, I felt an increasingly intense weight in my stomach. The weight of many things, starting with shame and bad premonitions.
The next morning, I went d
