Wolf At the Door
“Or a hominid and a canis.”
“Rachael . . .”
“Shut up!” she screeched. “Shut up, it’s my turn, you had your turn and now it’s mine so you be quiet and let me talk now!”
Edward flinched back. He looked awful, pale and drawn; his face looked as bad as hers probably did. For certain, he was as stressed. Her teeth had been on edge the moment she’d opened the door. But she had never considered leaving the door closed, never considered ignoring him until she was ready for him.
And why would she? It wasn’t his fault. None of it. But that didn’t change the fact that it was her, har-de-har-har, time of the month. Not just that but her time in a strange city with no friends, no friendly faces. She knew she would have to endure her Change alone, and just that fact made it something to dread.
How stupid we all are, she thought. Many a month on the Cape she had made plans to stay in and spend her Change quietly on a rug in front of the fireplace, and it had been nothing to her.
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