“I’ve found the answer to all your problems.” Bree was practically bouncing up and down, even though it was stupid o’clock in the morning. The sun streamed in through the thin gauzy curtains. Apparently, today was the longest day of the year, which meant sunrise had happened at an ungodly hour.

“Since when were you a morning person?” I asked as I shielded my eyes from the glare of the sun. “And also, I think we need to get you some thicker curtains.”

“Get up, get up,” she said, eyes sparkling. “There are worlds to conquer. Or a theatre, at least.”

She shoved a bright purple flyer into my hands, the kind you found on cork boards in university buildings. Sighing, I took the page and began to read, and then immediately sat straight up, the covers falling off my shoulders.

“You see?” Bree asked in a gleeful tone of voice that matched the new hectic beat of my heart. Because I did see. Very, very much so.

“A choreographer, for an Off Broadway theatre,” I breathed. “No previous experience required. It sounds too good to be true, Bree.”

“It’s right there on the flyer. In bold Helvetica.” She grinned. “I called them and got you a slot for tonight.”

I dropped the paper, as well as my chin. “What?”

“They’re doing things in an audition style, I guess. All you have to do is go and show them what you’ve got. It should be a piece of cake for you. I’ve seen your dance routines. You’re the best damn dancer I know.”

“Yeah, but Bree,” I said, shaking my head. “They’re going to get a lot of ‘auditions’ for this. It says no experience required, but there are going to be people going for this who have actually choreographed shows before. I can’t compete with that.”

“You can, and you will,” she said. “It doesn’t hurt to try, does it? Show that asshole step-dad that he’s wrong about you.”

With a deep breath, I gave Bree a nod. Lately, it felt as if my entire life was spiralling out of control. It was time to do something about it, and getting a full-time choreographing job would be a great start.

* * *

We were at the entrance of the theatre at eight in the evening. Apparently, they’d been doing ‘auditions’ all day, and were planning to go until ten. A lot of competition. Way more than made me comfortable. I felt jittery and unsettled, and my palms were slick with sweat. I was in the exact opposite frame of mind that I needed to be in, and I couldn’t help but remember that I often felt like this before one of my weird panic attacks, hallucinations, or whatever you wanted to call them.

The guy who had carried me home yesterday had felt so real, but Bree was convinced that I was conjuring things in my imagination because of the stress. But that didn’t totally explain what had happened and how I’d been able to smell such a vivid scent. The honeysuckle, the post-rain freshness of the air. He’d felt solid, steady. And if he hadn’t carried me back to Bree’s? Then I had no idea how I’d gotten there by myself.

Still, I needed to push those thoughts aside until this interview-slash-audition was over. My best dancing was always done with a clear, fresh head. When I was emotional, my dancing reflected that. It was more chaotic, more strange. Technique didn’t matter as much as dancing out all the pain.

Inside, the lobby was hushed, and voices echoed from a door held ajar by a box full of props. My heartbeat flickered, and I pressed my palms against my black jeans. My dreams were inside that theatre, ones I’d had for as long as I could remember. If I screwed this up…

“I need to go to the bathroom before I go in there,” I finally said, turning to Bree. “Meet you in a bit?”

She gave my arm a squeeze. “You’ll be fine, Norah. You’re good at this. Go splash some cold water on your face, and then go in there like you own the place. I’ll see you after. Break a leg.”

I cracked a smile, grateful for Bree’s words. Quickly, I found the bathroom and took in several deep breaths to steady my nerves. She was right. I was good at dancing. I might not be good at anything else, but I knew I was good at that. All I had to do was go up onto a stage and perform the steps I’d done a hundred times before.

It was time to stop hiding behind my fears.

My footsteps echoed on the tile as I stepped back into the empty hallway. All of the overhead fluorescent lights had been cast off, and the hall formed a dark, empty tunnel to the metal doors leading to the rest of the building. Pinpricks of light shone through the cracks. Other than that, there was no sign of life.

Something didn’t feel right. It was the absence of noise. It was the absence of any movement at all. Not even a breath of sound in a place that was normally full of activity. I shivered and paused in my steps to feel the pointy tips of my ears. They were still there.

A long, painful wail bounced off the walls. An animalistic sound. Goosebumps stampeded my arms. Every hair on my neck stood on end. With frozen lungs, I turned to stare down the hallway behind me. A dark shadow hovered at the far end.

And then the shadow charged.

I twisted on my heels and stormed toward the door. A loud hiss filled my ears, and the tangy scent of blood swirled into my nose. The air pressed in tight around me. Whatever chased me would dig its claws into my feet and take me then.

But it didn’t. And once I was out of the hallway and into the rest of the theatre with the glaring lamps shining light onto my head and the murmur of ordinary voices, I wasn’t sure anything had even been there at all.

A heavy thud echoed from behind me. Shivers slid down my spine, and I rushed through the theatre doors. Two expectant faces turned my way from the front seats. The directors I needed to impress, but I wouldn’t be doing any impressing tonight.

Bree had taken a seat near the back, and I grabbed her arm. Frowning, she yanked out of my grasp, her eyes wide.

“Norah, what are you doing?” Her voice was low, soft. She didn’t want the directors up front to overhear our discussion, even though they could clearly see I was trying to drag my friend out of this place.

“We have to go,” I said, grabbing her arm again. “Don’t fight with me on this.”

“Norah—”

No time to argue. I pulled her along the red carpet and back out into the lobby, kicking open the front doors of the theatre with my heavy boots. Once we were out in the fresh night air—if you could call the trash-infested air fresh—she wriggled out of my grip and shot me a dark frown.

“Honestly, Norah. What the hell was that all about? If you changed your mind or something, you could have at least said something to them instead of dragging me out of there like that.”

“One of those monsters was in the building.”

Her eyes widened, and a heavy sigh escaped through her parted lips. And then she shook her head, crossing her arms over her chest. “Not this again.”

“I know you think I’m imagining things, but I saw it, Bree. It chased me down the hall.”

“I love you, Norah. You know that right?” She dropped her hands onto my shoulders and squeezed. “But think about when this happened. Right before doing something that was making you so nervous that your entire face went white. I should have known not to push you into a stressful situation, not when you’re going through…whatever this is. I thought you’d be able to handle it. And I’m sorry I didn’t realize how tough it would be for you.”

Frowning, I stepped back. “You don’t believe me.”

“No, I believe that you’re seeing it,” she said in a sad voice.

“But you don’t believe it’s real.”

She winced and glanced to the side as if the fire hydrant was suddenly the most interesting thing she’d ever seen. Her gaze was locked on it, and her jaw rippled as she clenched her teeth. Tears sprung into my eyes.

“Bree,” I said. “Please. You have to believe me.”

She shook her head. “No. I’m sorry, Norah. I don’t believe it’s real. I know it’s not what you want to hear, but you need to hear it. I love you, and I want to support you, but I don’t know how to do that when you’re making up monsters in your head.”

I flinched and stepped back. “If you told me this was happening to you, I would believe you.”

She flicked her gaze back to my face. “Would you? Or would you think that maybe it was time I booked another appointment with my psychiatrist.”

That hurt. More than I expected it to. With tears filling my eyes, I sucked in a sharp breath and said, “You know what? Maybe it’s better if I don’t stay with you after all. I’ll go pack up my stuff and stay in an Air BnB until I can find a sublet I can afford.”

I couldn’t afford a sublet, especially not after I’d run out of that theatre. But I also couldn’t stay with Bree. She didn’t believe me. She thought I was crazy. How could I stay with her when she thought I was losing my mind?

She jerked back, almost like I’d slapped her, and then her voice turned to ice. “If that’s what you want, Norah, then I won’t try to stop you.”

“Fine,” I said. “I’ll go back now and pack my things. I’ll be gone within an hour.”

“Right.” She sniffed. “Well, I’m hungry, and there’s a pizza place on the corner. I’ll go grab something to eat. That way, I’ll be out of your hair while you get your things.”

This was awful. I hated fighting with Bree, especially when it felt like we were splitting up for good. My heart hurt worse than any physical wound I’d ever had. But it felt as though we’d climbed onto a runaway train, and neither one of us could get off. I wanted to stop this. I wanted to wrap my arms around her and hear her say that this was all some kind of horrible joke. But that would be a lie.

Bree turned and strode away, her feet aimed away from me. With a sigh, I followed suit, letting my body take me in the opposite direction. It was hard to see the sidewalk through my tears.

And then a scream ripped through the night, freezing my feet into place. My blood roared in my ears, and I knew what I would see even before I turned. Down the street, Bree stood in the shadow of a towering wolf-like creature. Her eyes were wild with fear, and her fists shook by her sides. The creature loomed over her, fangs flashing against the bright street-lamps that illuminated the empty street.

“Bree!” I choked out the word and began to stumble toward her.

She flicked her eyes my way, her face as white as a sheet. The sorrow and fear I saw in them would haunt me to my grave.

The creature raised its sharp claws in the air, and my feet moved faster.

“NO!” I shouted, but it was too late. There was nothing I could do to save Bree. There was nothing I could do but watch the creature’s claws slice right through her neck. Blood soared through the air, and I stumbled onto my knees. Bree crumpled onto the ground, her eyes distant, her face slack.

The creature jerked its head to the right, and then launched down the street, disappearing into the night.

* * *

They found me on my knees with blood all over my hands. I couldn’t remember anything after the moment that I’d seen Bree’s broken body fall onto the pavement. My entire body was numb and cold, and the world felt like a distant memory. Nothing felt real. Not even the blood on my hands.

“Miss, we’re going to have to ask you to come away from the body.” A woman in blue knelt before me, shining a flashlight into my eyes.

I blinked and glanced away. “I can’t leave her. I’m trying to stop the blood.”

Her voice went soft. “I know, honey, but we can’t help her if you don’t move away.”

“Can you stop her bleeding?” I asked.

A pause. “We’ll do our best. Now, come on.”

Body still numb, I stood. A sharp crack echoed in the night, and I peeled my eyes away from Bree to find myself face-to-face with a police officer. His gun was pointed right at me.

“What’s going on?” Deep within my muddled mind, I knew I should be alarmed and afraid. Someone was pointing a gun at me. But I felt nothing. Nothing but the need to make sure Bree was okay.

“Norah Oliver, yes? You need to turn around and put your hands in the air.” The officer glanced at the woman who had found me next to Bree. “Martha, I’m going to need you to search her for a weapon.”

A weapon? I frowned, confusion rippling through me until my mind began to piece the clues together. My blood-stained hands. Me kneeling over the body. The number one suspect in another similar brutal murder.

Murder.

Revulsion shook through me, and I grasped at my shirt because I didn’t know what else to do with my hands. This couldn’t be happening. Bree couldn’t be dead. And I wasn’t about to be arrested for her death.

A loud shot rang through the neon-lit streets, and the gun clattered out of the cop’s hands. His eyes widened as he stared down at his gun, and then he moved his eyes to me. My heart hammered. What the hell was going on? Was someone shooting at us? At me?

And then I heard a soft quiet voice whisper into my ear, from somewhere far, far away. Somehow, it sounded so near. “Run.”

I didn’t know why I listened to the voice, but I did.

Before the cop could grab his gun, I ran.