When the world's on fire, all I need is you
I don't always think to say it, but it's true
When I just wanna disappear
You're the one who keeps me here

"World's on Fire"
Mike Shinoda

LUCY:

A deal was a deal, and I soon learned that the Weasley twins took their deals seriously. The next couple of weeks passed in a whirlwind of activity. Between classes, homework, Quidditch practice, haunted house preparation, and learning defensive spells, I barely had time for Cedric's birthday present --- I was glad I had started it early that year. Just the same, I still had some finishing touches to do the night before his birthday after the twins decided we had enchanted enough masks for one night.

"Aren't you going to bed too?" Fred asked when it didn't look like I was following suit.

I shook my head. "Cedric's birthday is tomorrow, and I'm not quite done with his gift yet."

"Oh, can we see?"

I shrugged and reached into my bookbag, pulling out the scarf I was nearly finished knitting. "It's not the best, I know, but I hope he likes it anyway. See, I have the maroon for Gryffindor, the black for Hufflepuff, and the yellow that's more or less a part of both." I reached into my bag and grabbed the Golden Snitch patch that had just arrived that morning. "Once I sew this on, I'm going to try to figure out how to make the wings flap." I showed them the other end of the scarf, that already had a large white C patch sewn onto it. "I'm debating whether or not I should enchant this patch too. I was thinking about making it flash between red and gold as a joke, but I kind of just like the white."

"That's brilliant," the twins said in unison, kneeling to see the scarf. "How long have you been working on this?"

"I started over summer," I admitted, "but I had to redo most of it because it was just in Hufflepuff colors. I really thought I was going to be a Hufflepuff, you know."

"Well, thank Merlin you weren't," Fred laughed. "Then we'd have no reserve Quidditch player and we'd be all on our lonesome trying to put Halloween together."

"You two are the ones doing all of the work anyway," I pointed out.

"Not true," George protested. "Whose idea was it to make all of the masks scream at the end?"

"Mine," I sighed. "Fine, you two are doing most of the work."

"Well, next year, don't expect a free ride to glory," Fred teased. "You'll be a second-year. We'll even put you in charge if you want."

"Oh Merlin, no," I giggled. "I'll still help, but that's a lot of responsibility. Besides, nobody can keep you two in check anyway, me least of all. I'm a bad influence."

"You seem to be the only one who thinks that," George retorted. "Our mum's written half a dozen glowing letters about how we've barely gotten in trouble this past month, and Percy blames it all on you. Horrible influence, indeed."

"Yeah, little does she know that it's all because we're too overworked for mischief," Fred said with a dramatic sigh.

"They think you've managed to force us to clean up our act," George added, mock-scowling. "Our mum and Perfect Prefect Percy worship the ground upon which you walk."

I laughed. "Do they actually?"

They nodded emphatically.

"They think you're an angel come straight from heaven, sent to show us the error of our tomfoolery."

"Well, I happen to love your tomfoolery," I said. "As soon as Halloween is over, we still need to set off that Dungbomb."

"Rest assured, young one, the haunted house is merely a brief pause in our pranking performance. Dungbombs are top of our Hogsmeade shopping list!" Fred declared.

"Well, don't stay up too late," George warned. "We have Quidditch practice tomorrow and we can't have you falling asleep on your broom and breaking your neck until after Halloween, alright?"

I laughed. "Alright, alright. Good night, you two."

"G'night, Cub!" they said before heading up the stairs to their dormitory and leaving me alone in the common room. They had finally settled on a nickname after nearly three weeks of consideration --- since the Gryffindor animal was a lion, they thought it appropriate that they call me Cub, as in a lion cub. Either that, or they would say "Lulululululululululu" as quickly as they could until they had my undivided attention. Sometimes I ignored them on purpose, just to see how long they would go before giving up. They hadn't given up yet, and once I pretended not to hear them for a full minute and a half.

I rose from the ground on stiff legs and flopped on the couch to continue knitting. I had spent several hours on my hands and knees with Fred and George the past few weeks, poring over books of decorating charms and sketches of the maze we would construct and whatever other scraps of information we deemed useful.

We had become quite the team, the three of us. I did all of my homework for the week while they were at the Quidditch practices that I didn't have to attend, and they took turns teaching me defensive spells while the other did his homework on Saturday mornings. Nearly every other waking minute not spent in class or at Quidditch practice was reserved for the haunted house. We worked feverishly, often tuning the rest of the world out as we discussed singing charms and color-changing enchantments and whether or not it would be worth it to cast a general flame-freezing charm around the whole common room beforehand.

Cedric's birthday was little different, but he didn't mind. He loved the scarf, and he ended up spending the day with his friends rather than me anyway. He understood that the full moon was coming, so I was under more pressure than usual to stay on top of my work.

Since it had been decided that I would try a transformation without the wolfsbane, I was a different kind of ill leading up to the full moon as I had been in September.

The full moon was on a Wednesday that month, October 23. After Sunday's Quidditch practice, my hands couldn't stop shaking. I accidentally turned a pumpkin ink black instead of blood red, and it took five minutes for the twins to fix it. After that incident, they called it a night, and I headed up to my dormitory, but I couldn't sleep. I stayed up way too late into the night reading my textbooks by the light of my wand because I knew trying to sleep would be hopeless. I awoke the next morning with a crick in my neck because I had fallen asleep hunched over my textbook, but Cedric was able to fix it with a flick of his wand. What few notes I managed to take in class were practically illegible, and I often found myself doodling on the margins of the parchment the majority of the time. As the day wore on, I felt the familiar flush of fever creep into my body, and when I walked into the common room that night, Fred and George confirmed what I already suspected.

"Merlin, Cub, you look like you just took a sunburn jinx to the face," Fred said.

"I thought your flying lessons were Thursdays," George remarked. "You shouldn't be so sunburned just from walking to the greenhouses."

"They are. And do sunburn jinxes exist? I've never heard of that before."

"We invented one last year. Tried it on your brother, actually. He was able to reverse it immediately, of course, but his whole club of adoring fangirls wouldn't speak to us for weeks because we dared to mess with his perfect face."

I laughed. My stomach growled loudly. "Blimey, I'm starving."

"You would give Ron a run for his money with how much you've been eating lately."

"Either of you want to go to the kitchens with me?"

"I have a better idea," Fred said, grabbing a blank mask. "We shouldn't be needing this anyway."

With a flick of his wand, the mask became a loaf of bread.

"Wicked," I said as he placed it in the middle of our workspace and tore a chunk off the corner. "Will you teach me that spell after the defensive ones?"

"Sure!"

"When will I get to test those anyway?"

They each cocked an eyebrow. "Test?"

I nodded. "You know, use them on something other than training dummies."

"You want to attack us?" George asked with a mock hurt expression.

"No can do, Cub, our handsome faces are far too precious," Fred sighed, running a hand down his freckled cheek. "Try them on your brother, maybe."

"Oh, shove off," I laughed, swatting his arm. "I'm talking about the Forest. When are we going to actually put the spells to the test?"

"Not for a while," George said, and I could tell from his demeanor that, for once, he was being serious. "You got lucky once, Lucy, but you can't expect to get that lucky again."

"You two have snuck off loads of times!" I protested.

"We're stupid," Fred said simply. "We've taken risks we really shouldn't have, and we got lucky too. I can't even begin to tell you how many times Bill and Charlie and Adalyn had to bail us out our first year. We've learned a lot of lessons the hard way, and we're not going to let you have to learn those lessons the hard way, too."

"Alright," I relented, flipping my wand. "I'm just bored, I guess. I want a real test."

"Well, for now, we have the haunted house, so try to focus on that. After Halloween, we'll see what kind of real test we can rig up for you."

I smiled at that. "Sounds great."

I kept working long after Fred and George had gone to bed. I considered going sleepwalking, but their words had resonated with me. I had gotten lucky, I couldn't deny that. And the thought of the Forbidden Forest made my skin crawl; it was just the reckless adrenaline of the approaching full moon talking. But at the same time, I was restless. Sighing, I reached for a mask and tapped it, watching as orange paint blossomed across it in the shape of angry, flickering flames. I tapped it again, and a pair of bloodshot eyes appeared, darting back and forth. I grinned to myself and reached for a mirror as I placed it over my face. It was delightfully terrifying.

Later that night, I jumped up and began to pace. I had tried to convince myself I could make it through the night enchanting and planning until I fell asleep, but I couldn't contain myself any longer. The fire in the fireplace was dying, so I pointed my wand at the flames, whisper-shouting, "Incendio!"

It burst to life accordingly, just the way the training dummy had a few days prior. I continued my pacing, waiting for the fire to die again so I could re-ignite it. When I got bored of pacing, I started jumping in place, casting a silencing charm so no one could hear me.

"It's not a defensive spell," George had explained at our first unofficial lesson, "but it's our best friend, and I suppose it could save your life in a true pinch."

"Yeah," Fred had agreed. "Silencio is the reason we get out of as much as we do. Of course, it's not foolproof-"

"You really have to know when to use it and when to not-"

"But it sure does help with sneaking around and the like."

"And it's going to be the only way the three of us get any sense of privacy, a lot of what we teach you will be loud."

"So for today, let's put silencing charms all around here so we can come back without issue in the future."

I grew impatient, so I gave up and retired to my dormitory, slipping away into nonsensical dreams of talking masks and singing gnomes. The morning light hitting my red sheets hurt my eyes when I opened them, so I stumbled through my morning routine squinting. I was glad Parvati had taught me the braiding charm; trying to braid my own hair with such shaky hands would have been a nightmare.

After her cutting comments in History of Magic, Hermione had stopped going out of her way to talk to me, which was honestly just as well with how busy the twins and I were. But that day, after the bell rang, she handed me my book after I had dropped it, her sharp brown eyes studying me.

"Are you alright, Lucy? You seem tense."

"Do I?" I asked, shoving my book into my bag and jumping to my feet. "Because I'm fine, really, not tense at all."

We exited the classroom together and headed up the stairs. The echoes of dozens of feet climbing the stairs all around me made my head spin.

"Where have you been the past few weeks?" she asked. "It seems that we never really talk anymore."

"I've been awfully busy with the twins."

"I've noticed. But why don't you talk to me anymore?"

I was grateful to have Hermione by my side, interrogation and all. I would have been easily overwhelmed without her right next to me, leading the way.

"It's nothing personal, Hermione, honest," I managed. The sun streaming through a window hit my eyes at just the wrong angle, and I hissed in pain before continuing. "It's just... well, ever since you and Ron and Harry had your row-"

"We had a 'row' because they nearly killed me!"

"Not on purpose-"

"Intentions don't matter when lives are at stake!"

"Anyway," I cut in, determined to have my say now that we were finally talking. "To answer your question, I've been spending my time with Fred and George because it's what's best for me right now. When I talk to Harry and Ron, you get upset with me. I love being your friend, Hermione, but I'd like to be friends with Harry and Ron too. But since you three aren't exactly speaking with each other at the moment, I'm going to spend my time with people who don't make me feel like I need to choose sides."

She didn't have anything to say to that.

I sighed. "I'm sorry if that came across as harsh. I hope I didn't hurt your feelings. I just got tired of feeling like I have to choose between you or them, so I decided I would choose to spend time with people who made me feel better and not worse, and for now, that's the twins."

We entered our next class at that moment and took our typical seats next to each other. She didn't say a word to me the entire period, but it seemed that at least some of my words had gotten to her. But by then, I didn't care. Everything was too loud, too bright, too strong. At lunch, the food was too hot, too cold, too crunchy, too soft, but I ate everything I could anyway. I would need it.

That night, I went to my dormitory when Fred and George went to theirs, but I laid in bed for no more than five minutes before I knew I needed to sleepwalk. The sheets were too scratchy, the breathing of my roommates was too loud, even the dying fire in the corner was too bright. I didn't even bother to throw a cloak over my shoulders as I left the room and made my way out to the courtyard. The night was clear, and the stars were the only thing in the world at the moment that didn't overwhelm me. I curled into a small ball on the ground and tipped my head to the sky, some of my agitation finally slipping away.

I don't know how long I was there, but once I had finally settled myself down somewhat, I rose and made my way back to bed, getting a fitful couple of hours before finally giving up and changing into my clothes for the day when Hermione woke for her sunrise shower. I made my way down to the common room and cracked open my Herbology book, trying to ignore the throbbing headache already beginning.

"You're up early," Hermione commented a couple minutes later when she came down the stairs a few minutes later.

"Couldn't sleep," I replied. The sound of my own voice in my ears made me want to scream, even though I knew that would make my head split apart altogether.

As she sat next to me on the couch, the scent of Hermione hit me all at once. Though the lavender soap from her shower was the strongest scent, I could smell the leather on her hands from the books she had skimmed that night, and the ink beneath her fingernails from essays. It was strange, really, because the only people I had ever truly noticed in that way were my parents and Cedric, as they had been the only people ever around on the day of a transformation. I found myself wondering how everyone else would smell, but before I could, she asked what I was reading.

Preferring not to have to speak again, I lifted the cover for her.

"That's a good idea," she said, reaching for her own copy. "Is it your favorite class?"

I shrugged, hoping I didn't come off as rude.

"Well, I'd say it's probably your best. I think my favorite class is Transfiguration, but it might be Charms."

"Cool," I replied, offering a smile her direction. She smiled back hesitantly before returning to her book. We read together in silence for about an hour before our fellow sleepy Gryffindors stumbled down the stairs. Even the sounds of shoes on floorboards was too loud, much too loud. And even worse were the overwhelming smells, of th e common room fireplace and the worn books that littered the corners and the fur of many cats and rats that had roamed the room recently.

Ron smelled of Chocolate Frogs and wooden chess pieces. Harry smelled of Chocolate Frogs, as well, and of broom polish and the metal of the Golden Snitch. Lavender and Parvati smelled of books and flowers and cosmetic powder.

When I found myself wedged between the twins at breakfast, they both smelled of smoke and paint and wood. I imagined I smelled quite similar, considering we had spent so much time together the past few weeks. As more and more people entered the Great Hall, I felt myself getting more and more overwhelmed. I bounced my leg up and down violently as my senses reached a crescendo. Too bright, too loud, too strong, too bright, too loud, too strong.

A firm hand on my shaking leg brought me back to reality.

"Lucy, are you alright?" George asked.

I managed a nod.

"What's wrong?" Fred pressed, clearly not believing me.

"Nothing!" I squeaked. "I'm fine!"

"Lucy," they warned in unison.

I sighed shakily. "It's just... it's just... my parents want me to meet them in Hogsmeade after classes today and I don't want to."

"Oh," George said, his face and voice softened. "Why didn't you just say so?"

"I just feel so bad because I wanted to help tonight but I don't know how long they want me to be there or why they even want to see me and I-"

"Hey, hey, hey." Fred set his fork down and turned to face me fully. "Don't you worry about that. You've been working really hard, and you deserve a night off. Even if it's, er, less than ideal."

"Exactly," George echoed. "We have Quidditch tonight anyway. Lucky your parents didn't come on a night where you had to be at practice too, eh?"

I nodded. "Yeah." A day will come, though, when a full moon clashes with Quidditch. What a nightmare that'll be. "Definitely lucky."

I struggled to make it through the day. Every little sound or burst of light or slight touch made me jump, or flinch, or wince. After my final class of the day, I slipped away to the Hospital Wing, where Madam Pomfrey was tending to a student with a mysterious green welt growing on his hand. My stomach turned at the sight of it, but Madam Pomfrey seemed less than concerned.

"Just a moment, Lucy," she called to me. "Once I tend to Archie here, I'll be happy to speak with you."

I made my way over to the bed as Madam Pomfrey walked away to a large cabinet filled with vials of colorful potions. "Archie? What happened?"

He laughed humorlessly. "Hey, Diggory. Well, remember what I said a few weeks ago about how my little talk with that smug blond prick was the first but not the last?"

I nodded. "Please don't tell me he-"

"Oh no, it wasn't Draco who did this," he said. "But some fifth-year overheard what I was saying and didn't like it, so all of a sudden I had this lovely specimen growing on my hand."

I grimaced. "You should be more careful, I don't want you getting hurt."

He cocked an eyebrow.

"More hurt," I corrected with a sigh.

"It's worth it to me," he said with a shrug. "I'm not saying anything wrong, so I'm not going to stop just because it makes some people upset."

I opened my mouth to reply, but Madam Pomfrey arrived then with a vial of red liquid, which she applied liberally over his hand before bandaging it. She ushered me away, telling Archie she would re-examine his hand when she was back. Archie didn't ask any questions as I left; I hoped he couldn't see how tense I was, but I had the feeling that those blue eyes didn't miss much.

The Whomping Willow was even larger up close. Madam Pomfrey showed me how to safely enter the tunnel as the sun began to set, reminding me kindly that she would be there waiting for me at sunrise. I thanked her, managing my best smile, and disappeared down the hole, landing in the tunnel. My breath hitched in my throat. With my senses as heightened as they were, the scent was nearly unbearable. Still, I drew a deep breath and gathered my courage, placing one foot in front of the other until I reached the Shrieking Shack.

I had seen it a handful of times before from the outside. I learned that the inside was just as dilapidated. Every surface was covered with dust and mold, and it seemed there wasn't a piece of furniture left intact. I parked myself under a hole in the ceiling, studying the sky and waiting for the moment the transformation would occur. My final thought before the searing pain of transformation wracked my body was of how the next year's Gryffindor haunted house should be modeled after this hellhole.

The girl's shrieks brought the inhabitants of Hogsmeade outside.

"Those poor tortured souls," a patron of The Three Broomsticks commented.

"They've been quiet for so long now," another agreed. "I wonder what stirred them again."

"I just hope they find peace soon," the first said with a shudder. "They do sound like they're in terrible pain."

Inside the Shrieking Shack, the transformation was complete. The girl was gone; a werewolf remained in her place.

It panted and snarled in confusion, taking in its surroundings. It shook its head a couple of times, then began to sprint around the room, sniffing in every crevice for something to eat, because it was hungry. Very hungry. Yet there was nothing to eat.

With a howl, the wolf launched itself down the stairs, nose high in search of something, anything. Alas, all it could find was dusty furniture and broken windows. It howled again in mourning, darting back upstairs. Down and up and down and up and down and up the wolf flew for hours.

As midnight came and went, the werewolf began to realize it was rather pointless to keep looking for anything to eat. It slammed its head into a doorframe in frustration, releasing a yelp of pain. It hadn't meant to do it so hard, yet at the same time, it felt right, so it did it again. It slumped to the floor, defeated. Across the room, the bed squeaked in response. The werewolf was suddenly on its feet again, snuffling all around the bed, hoping for some rodent it could use to entertain itself. The night was long, the moon was high, and the werewolf was hungry.

It was rather lean, really, as far as werewolves go, much like the girl it had replaced. Neither the wolf nor the girl ever seemed to get enough to eat for one reason or another. But both were stronger than their thin frames would suggest. After all, a certain amount of strength was required to undergo such a destructive transformation month after month after month after month.

Finding nothing, the wolf howled again. It was hungry, so hungry, yet there was nothing and no one. The werewolf kept howling, mourning, biting its own paw in despair, running up and down the stairs. The moon made its way across the sky. Slowly, but surely. When the first rays of the sun dared to rise above the horizon, the wolf gave one last ear-splitting howl before it gave way to a scream, the wolf becoming girl once again.

I opened my eyes to find myself curled in a ball on the floor. It took a couple of moments to register where I was. Who I was.

I rose to my feet, though everything within me wanted to lay on the ground forever. I was exhausted.

I glanced down at myself. My right ankle was bleeding profusely. My fingers and hands were bloodied and bruised. I couldn't even begin to imagine how my face looked. I made my way back down the tunnel and crawled up through the hole.

"Lucy," Cedric breathed, sprinting forward and hugging me tightly.

I hugged him back as best I was able before he held me away at arms-length, studying me and leading me over to the castle. "You can sit here. You look so tired. I'll do what I can, it doesn't look like you need to go to the Hospital Wing."

"Where's Madam Pomfrey?" I asked as Cedric removed my shoe to examine my ankle closer.

He snorted. "Well, after the Gryffindor Quidditch practice yesterday, Ravenclaw and Slytherin showed up at the same time. Ravenclaw normally practices after your team, but the Slytherins got Professor Snape to sign a piece of paper saying they could have the Pitch last night. Things got... a little out of hand, and the Hospital Wing is a little overwhelmed right now, so I offered to come down to collect you myself."

"I'm glad Gryffindor stayed out of that one. The twins have told me stories about Skye Parkin's temper, and if Slytherin had tried to take the field from us, I probably would have been filling in for her at our first match."

"Speaking of, your first match might be easier than expected. Half of the team got hexed to oblivion, by the looks of it." He gently peeled my socks off, keeping his face a careful blank when he saw the gruesome bite mark. "Don't worry, I can fix it."

He drew his wand and pointed it at the wound. "Episkey."

The skin slowly started to knit back together. I stared, fascinated. "Will you teach me that spell sometime?"

"Of course," he replied, cleaning my sock with a muttered "Scourgify." "How was it last night? You know, comparatively?"

I closed my eyes and sorted through the mental images I still retained from the night. "Dusty."

Cedric laughed then, an easy and genuine laugh. "I'm not surprised. I've heard stories about the Shrieking Shack from older kids who snuck in during Hogsmeade visits."

"Will you ever try to sneak in?" I asked with a smirk.

"No, of course not. Why would I, when I could be spending time at Honeyduke's?"

"You got me there," I giggled. "Isn't the Hogsmeade trip this weekend?"

He nodded. "It'll be my first. I'm quite excited. Now, about that bump on your forehead..."

I reached up to touch it gingerly. "That's mighty impressive, I'd say. I've heard of Swelling Solution, but I don't suppose there's an Anti-Swelling Solution?"

He shook his head and pointed his wand at my forehead. "Episkey will have to do."

I held still as he finished casting healing charms on the various parts of my body still bleeding. When he was finished, I tugged my sock on and slipped my foot into my shoe. We walked together to the castle and went our separate ways, him to the Hospital Wing to report to Madam Pomfrey and me up to the common room to take a quick shower before classes began.

Classes. I could barely keep my eyes open as I stumbled up the stairs. I had been awake for more than 24 hours straight. The thought of classes was nearly unbearable. I crept up to my dormitory, opening the door just as Hermione was leaving the bathroom, her hair still in a towel.

"Lucy!" she gasped. "Where were you? What happened?"

"I was in Hogsmeade with my parents," I lied. "It got late so I stayed overnight." My face fell. "Merlin, I missed Astronomy, didn't I?"

Hermione nodded. "You can borrow my notes."

"You look like you didn't sleep a wink," a half-asleep Parvati mumbled from across the room.

"You look like you didn't shower either," Lavender commented with a yawn.

"I didn't and I didn't, so I'll do you all a favor and shower so I stop smelling like a dead animal."

This prompted giggles from the other girls. I grabbed a clean change of robes and showered quickly. It did little to wake me up, but little was better than nothing. I brushed my teeth and braided my hair, resisting the urge to collapse into bed and heading down to the Great Hall instead.

"Well, there she bloody is!"

I blinked and looked up. "Me?"

"Yes, you," George said as I slid in between the twins. "Where were you, Cub?"

"It got late and they didn't want me coming back after dark," I lied. "I stayed the night."

"We would have come to get you," Fred sighed. "We know a way to get there and back really quick. Next time that happens, just owl us or something, okay?"

I nodded, yawning. I stared at my empty plate, trying to will myself to grab something, but I was anything but hungry. I was tired, and sore, and queasy, and cold. I shivered.

"I'm going to go grab a sweater," I said, yawning again. "It's cold in here. I'll see you two later."

"Aren't you going to eat?" Fred called after me.

"I'm not hungry," I replied over my shoulder, making my way through the tables and back up to the common room. I pulled a sweater over my head and promptly fell asleep on the couch in front of the fire. If the twins hadn't come up to check on me, confused by my utter lifelessness, I would have likely missed all of my classes that day. They didn't ask any questions, but I could sense their concern. They blamed my complete change in behavior on the stress finally getting to me, and I let them. It was better than the ugly, ugly truth.

Whereas the days prior to the full moon were filled with manic energy and complete restlessness, the days afterward were foggy and lethargic. It was all I could do to keep from falling asleep in class; any time I was back in the common room or my dormitory, it was only a matter of minutes before I would nod off. I had learned it took about thirty hours of sleep to fully recover, almost as if I was making up for the sleep I lost before the full moon. I tried and I tried to fight the exhaustion and keep working, but on Friday night, I fell asleep with a pumpkin for a pillow and didn't wake until dawn, finding myself snuggled in a blanket on the couch. It seems Fred and George were feeling the strain, too; Fred was lying on his back next to the fireplace, a mask haphazardly draped on his face and his wand still in his hand, and George was slumped against the wall holding a skeleton tight to his body. I barely had time to chuckle to myself before I drifted off to sleep again.

A/N: Hello again, readers! Here I am again, with just a short note this week.

First of all, a little clarification. If the first 2/3 of the chapter or so seems a little bit rushed time-wise, that's because it's supposed to be! I wanted readers to feel the same rising tension Lucy experiences, so if you're a little unnerved by my frantic pacing, I hope you can forgive me for stressing you out. I promise it was like that on purpose.

Thank you so much to everyone who's read up to this point! Please feel free to comment! Tell me what you love, what you hate, how the story makes you feel, who your favorite character is, who your least favorite character is, anything and everything. Feedback makes the writing process so worthwhile to me because it's a lifeline directly to my lovely readers! (Psst, that's you.)

I hope everybody is doing well in these crazy times, and that my story provides something of an escape for you. Stay safe and healthy, everyone!