#Chapter8
She couldn't tell me. Vivian couldn't tell me who he is, not yet, anyway. It's like finding out I'm going to die tomorrow but unaware of how and when. Walking home from school was a nightmare—the anxiety weighing on me, the fear of seeing his eyes in the brush. That's all I know about the dark thing now, that it is not a thing, but a He. Was the Waindale Academy shirt his? Why is he watching me? Does he want to hurt me? Do I know him? How long has he been here? None of these questions have been answered. I've only been given the unimportant, meaningless knowledge that it is a He. And, I suppose, that he is a werewolf like Vivian and Imogen and Eli. It makes me wonder about Elara, though. What is she? What is any of this?
/"Wrenley?/"
Looking up from my plate, I'm faced with my mother and Grandma. /"Aren't you hungry, Dear?/"
/"Um./" I glance back to my untouched food. /"Yeah, sorry. Just have a lot going on at school, that's all./"
