Daddy tells me everything he knows. How my mother died giving birth to me, and no one knew who the father was.

After their wedding, he and Mama tried for five years to have a baby. When they discovered that they were unable to, they immediately enrolled in the adoption program. It took a few years, but when they held me in their arms for the first time, they fell in love. They didn't know that I wasn't a normal child. How could they know? Blood tests had showed a chromosomal abnormality, but no one knew what it was. They performed tests on me in the early years of my life, and when everything checked back as normal and healthy, the tests ended with the strict lecture to report anything unusual that may occur.

Shortly after my eleventh birthday, they found a young wolf one morning in my bed, and they didn't know what to do. When I shifted back to my normal body, they discovered the truth, but were afraid of what would happen to me if they reported me to the health officials. They feared that I would be taken away and experimented on for the rest of my life, and they didn't want that. My main symptoms at the time had been hallucination-induced fever and headaches, leading to excruciating migraines. They sought out pharmaceutical drugs, until one particular sedative seemed to stop it. My headaches went away and the shifts ceased altogether with it. I returned to normal and went on with my life, completely oblivious to the truth.

Mama and Daddy thought they had cured me, or at least were able to control the shift from happening.

That is, until something triggered the shift to occur at the club with Ava that night.

Our food lies abandoned on the table, cold and untouched, by the time Mama comes home. From the tears in our eyes, she knew Daddy had told me the truth.

"I'm sorry, baby," she says as she envelops me in her arms. "We thought we had this thing beat, so we'd never have to tell you the truth. How could we? You never knew you were adopted, and we didn't want to tell you that. You're our baby, blood-born or not. You weren't ready to hear that truth, and we couldn't tell you about," she hesitates, "about your abilities. Please forgive us for keeping these secrets from you, but we only wanted what was best for you."

I rub my temples, trying to ease the burning sensation behind my eyes from all of the grief. The truth stung, and although it was a bitter truth, it is better that I know it now than being completely naïve before. Not that I can return to who I was before. That life is gone now.

In some way, a weight is lifted from my shoulders, and I cry uncontrollably. Part of it is acceptance lacing its fingers through my head. I needed to hear the truth from them. I would have struggled so much more to accept being a shifter if they hadn’t told me.

My headaches made sense now. My wolf was trying to break free, and my headaches were the aura warning me of her intentions. That time with Evan, when I almost shifted, it felt like my head was going to explode from the inside out. And why shouldn't it? My skull would have to change shape as well, wouldn't it?

With the truth revealed to me, I can finally start to accept that I'm a shifter. I'm still terrified by it, but there's no use in denying it. I can't live a lie. If being a shifter is who I am, I have to accept it and move on.

Now, I really miss Evan. I wish I had his number, or some means of reaching him. I really need to hear his voice and be held in his warm embrace,

I can't sleep that night, and what little sleep I manage to grasp is taken over by nightmares of painful, seizing shifts that jolt me awake. Short of screaming, I look around as I take in the safety of my room and comfort of my bed.

Wiping the sweat from my brow, I get up and tiptoe to the bathroom across the hall to splash some cold water on my face.

It’s just a dream, I tell myself. But I know that it’s just a matter of time that I will shift. And I don’t know when that will be, but I pray that it will be when I’m alone and in the safety of my house.

I hurry back to my bed and hold my pillow against me, wishing that Evan was by my side instead.

I’m not sure when I finally fell asleep, but when my alarm wakes me up, my head is pounding a steady tempo in my skull, as if to say, let me out. Let me out.

Instinctively, I reach over for the pills on my nightstand, but hesitate.

Now that I know that this medicine has been suppressing my inner wolf, should I continue taking them and disable her from taking control over me?

A groan escapes my lips. It’s too early to think about it, I decide.

I pop a pill and bury my head in the pillow again.

After half an hour, I haul myself out of bed and amble to the bathroom to shower and get dressed.

Mama and Daddy have already left for work. Since Ruby cut my hours at the zoo, I don’t have to go in today. As I prepare some eggs for myself for breakfast, with a second frying pan cooking up some maple-flavored sausages, I send Ava a quick text message, asking her to call me when she gets the chance.

I don’t know what to do with myself today. After breakfast, I plug-in my earbuds and step out of the house for a walk. There’s a lot for me to think about, and walking always seems to help me work through my thoughts.

I’m adopted. I’m also a shifter. I might shift again—and potentially hurt someone—but at the same time, I have medication that seems to be preventing my inner wolf from taking over.

Except for that one time, nearly two weeks ago. I still have no memory of what transpired. Could someone have actually drugged me, and that caused a reaction with my medication to not only release my inner wolf, but to wipe out my memories as well?

I turn down the tree-lined street of 23rd Avenue, trickling with tourists before the lunch hour hits. Between the branches of the trees, the sun is warm and bright on my skin. Drinking it in along with the gentle breeze, a memory of the cabin with Evan flickers in my mind. A car honks, snapping me out of my reverie. The traffic is starting to get heavy, but it isn’t bad compared to the bumper-to-bumper rush-hour traffic it gets.

I pause in front of my favorite relaxation spot—an old house converted into a multi-level business. Above the clothing shop is a teashop that sells loose-leaf tea, as well as hot cups of tea and bubble tea. I walk up the steps to the front door and then the staircase to the upper level.

The shop is quaint, yet cozy. Small glass jars line one wall, filled with various flavors of loose-leaf tea. At the front of the shop that overlooks the street is a sitting area and a balcony. I already know what I want, so I head to the counter at the back of the shop, where a young man in his early twenties greets me.

I’m here so often that I greet him by name as I pull my earbuds out and turn my music off. He knows my favorite drink as well, and asks me if I want my usual.

“Of course,” I say. “And don’t go stingy with the cinnamon, like that new girl you guys have in the evening.”

He laughs as he goes to prepare it.

I dig through my purse for their customer loyalty card and the cash to pay.

When he comes back, I’m suddenly filled with apprehension because the look on his face is grave. I don’t even have to ask what’s wrong because I already know what’s on his mind.

“So, what happened?” he asks as he sets the paper cup before me. “I heard about it on the news. Everyone in the neighborhood was out looking for you.”

I’m chewing on my bottom lip before I realize it. Lowering my gaze, I slide my card and cash across the counter. He waves his hand at he money. “This one’s on me.”

Blushing a little, I mumble a soft thanks as I put the money back in my purse. “I don’t know,” I say. “I don’t remember. I just remember waking up in the national park east of P-Town.”

He shakes his head in disbelief. “That’s crazy. Glad you’re alright though. It’s always scary when you hear about people disappearing, but when you physically know that person?” He sighs and gives me a small smile. “Well, it’s good to see you again.”

“Thanks Chad,” I say.

Turning around, I decide to go and sit on the balcony and try and catch a few more rays of sunlight.

I really do miss the sunshine, and the peace and quiet that I had out at the cabin. I especially miss the fresh air, the smell of wildflowers enveloping me and tickling my legs.

Sighing as I take my seat, I look out at the treetops above and the traffic below. The cup is warm in my hands, and the sweetly spiced scent of my chai latte calls me to take a sip. As the warm liquid fills my mouth, a whistle on the street catches my attention. If it had it been short and quick, I probably wouldn’t have looked, but the sound was high pitched before slowly falling.

I look out over the railing of the balcony and lock eyes with Evan standing below.