“Stress relief is important,” Lark says with a smirk, giving my side a nudge with her elbow. “He’s obviously not relieving it.”
I don’t make eye contact. If she says anything about me blushing, I will deny that it’s due to anything more than winter’s chill. “Dance is the only stress relief I need.”
“Says someone not getting any other kind ofrelief,” Lark grumbles. She gives me a strange look when I step onto the snow-covered grass. “Ignore your prince and take a night to yourself. And Buzz.” She winks. “Delilah and I will be out on a date.”
“Okay.” But my attention is pinned to the very large paw prints in the snow leading toward the woods.
“What the hell are those?” Lark asks as I follow the tracks. “They’re huge.”
My face snaps to look at her. “You see them?”
“Not sure how I could miss them.” She trudges after me, keeping a few steps behind. “What are you doing?”
I’m too busy trailing after the wolf’s prints to respond. I’m certain this is its tracks, as certain as I am that the sky is blue and the seasons change. We walk, and walk, and walk some more into the tree line.
“Jojo, did you hear me?”
My legs are sore from rehearsal, numbing pain spreading down the back of my thigh until it’s wobbling. But I don’t stop, too focused on each pawed imprint in the snow. I’m a fish on a line, reeled in by some unseen force.
Three steps later, they vanish.
They don’t even taper off. Justpoof—gone. Like the wolf disappeared in the wind.
Before I can investigate further, Lark catches my wrist. “Hey.”
My attention finally snaps back to her, and she releases her hold, pulling her beanie over her ears. She scans the park’s clearing that’s just a blanket of white with peeks of frosted grass. “What are you looking for?”
“Something. Nothing.” My brows furrow. “I’m not really sure.”
“Well, can we head back home before we freeze our asses off? I’m not built for this cold.” She loops her arm in mine, shivering against me.
“Of course.” I huff out a laugh, gray mist wisping in front of us.
As we walk in the direction of the metro, I can’t help but glance over my shoulder. There’s no way more than one wolf has eyes like that. How can I be seeing it on the opposite side of town? And why do I get the feeling this won’t be the last time?
FEBRUARY
10
JOLIE
Most people use an empty apartment to listen to whatever music they want, throw on their guilty pleasure TV show, light a candle, dance naked, masturbate.
I’m not most people.
It’s been a week since I saw the wolf outside the Institute. I have no clue at what point I decided to tempt fate and try to contact my ghost—or whatever—but I’ve been counting down to Lark and Delilah leaving for the night ever since. Technically, I’m listening to my therapist’s advice.Exploringwhat these strange things I’m seeing could mean. Though I’m certain she doesn’t believe there’s anything happening beyond my subconscious swirling in my grief, especially as the anniversary of the accident looms closer.
Narrowing down a way to lure my mystery messenger has been the hardest part. Do I write on the mirrors and windows? Leave an entry in my journal with questions?
About an hour after Lark and Delilah leave the apartment, I dig in my Caboodle and pull out some deep-pink lipstick, then head into the bathroom. Uncapping its lid, I twist the base until enough has emerged to write with. Its pointed tip has beencurved over from all its use. Pressing up to my tippy-toes I write across the highest point of the mirror in bold letters.
Hello?
I stare up at the pink streaks and lean against the bathroom wall.
Last time they used the steam to write into, didn’t they?I quickly twist the faucet and turn on the shower before shutting the bathroom door. Steam billows around me in a cloud of gray, and my pulse taps at my sanity while I wait.
And wait.
