Chapter 16 We’ll protect her

Ariel After dinner, Atwood had disappeared upstairs with Lulu, their voices drifting faintly through the ceiling, laughter threaded with something lighter than it had been in days. I lingered at the table longer than necessary, turning my fork absently between my fingers, watching the candle flame bend and straighten as if it couldn’t decide what shape it wanted to be. Father noticed. He always did. "Come with me," he said at last, rising from his chair. I followed him into his study, a room that smelled of old wood, leather, and time. I took a breath. He smiled. “Go ahead, my child.” “About… werewolves.” I carefully observed his expression. Our family was the most closely associated with werewolves in town, at least that's what people said. “Werewolves?” Dad looked at me, a smile playing on his lips, as if he'd been waiting for me to ask this question. “Ariel, I believe you didn't come here just to hear stories, so I'm going to tell you something beyond the stories.” I held my breath,