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her knees. “Your life is going to change, and there’s nothing I can do about it.” She tucked a piece of my hair behind my ear, giving me a watery smile.

“Mom.” I wrapped my arms around her, holding and rocking her gently. “It’s okay.” I kept repeating it because I didn’t know how to help her.

Following my mom’s instructions, I went to the police station and gave my statement, but it was a watered-down version. I told them about the man trying to drown me in the river. I didn’t tell them about the rock or the wolf bite or my strange new ability to heal. Mom made me promise not to, though she wouldn’t tell me why.

“Later,” she said when I asked.

In my statement, I said that something must’ve spooked my kidnappers, and they ran off. I dragged myself from the river before passing out.

That had been two days ago.

Mom hadn’t been back on the couch since my return. She stayed busy. Baking. Cooking. Cleaning. At the moment, she was outside fixing our screen door.

I was a different story. Though I was physically fine, I kept having bad dreams that wolves were chasing me. Each time, the large wolf would be towering over me, his yellow eyes ferocious. Before he killed me, an enormous monster would pick up the wolf and toss him away like he was nothing but a stuffed toy. Then its eyes would focus on mine, and it would lick its lips, and I would wake, screaming.

Mom was there. She would bring me a cold washcloth and tell me I was safe, but I also sensed there was more.

The knowledge hung deep in my blood like a full moon on a clear night. She knew what was going on inside my body. Whenever I asked her what was happening, she said, “Not now, Di,” and that was that.

On the morning of the fourth day, I came downstairs determined to get answers. The news was on, and Mom was watching. I had a moment of dread that she was back to her couch-potatoing, except she was fully dressed. Her hair was done, and she even wore makeup. She was seated on the edge of the sofa, her hands clasped together in one fist.

I went into the kitchen for some water. “What’s wrong?”

She didn’t answer, focused on the news. An anchorwoman talked while showing a video of a young man speaking before congress, asking them to pass a bill that would make changes to how our country was burning through its natural resources.

The screen switched over to a different video where the same man stood at a podium and spoke. “If we don’t fight for our Earth,” he began, his voice confident and determined, “then she will start fighting back.” He paused a moment, and the newscaster returned, saying a few more words before segueing into a story about sports.

I pondered what the man said. Would Mother Earth fight back? Could she? They seemed silly questions, but somehow I knew they weren’t. That young man had been speaking the truth. She would come, and when she did, our world would be devastated.

I paused. Where had that come from?

“We’re bringing you breaking news,” the reporter said, her beautiful face strained with uneasiness.

Mom shut off the TV and stood. “You got a letter,” she said, her features tense.

“Okay.” Something was wrong. My mom was acting even weirder than she had the last few days. Dressed and cleaned up, she didn’t look a day over twenty-five, which was also odd. The woman had good genes. I hoped she passed them on to me.

She went over to the desk near the front door and picked up an envelope before handing it to me. “Just know you don’t have to do this,” she said.

I was confused but took the envelope. It was thick, heavy. Expensive. Across the front was only my name: Moonlight Diana Valene. No address or any indication where the letter had come from. I hated my first name. It sounded so hippy-dippy. What my parents had been thinking was something I never bothered to ask. I flipped the envelope over. Silver wax stamped with the letters WBA held the envelope shut.

“Fancy.” I used a letter opener to release the seal and took out the letter. It was an invitation. Before I read it, I looked up. “Do you know who sent this?”

She bobbed her head once. “Read it,” she said solemnly.

Premonition trickled down my spine while my eyes scanned the words written in fancy calligraphy. I read it aloud. “‘Your presence is required at the Wolf Blood Academy,’” I began and swallowed. “‘Attendance is mandatory. You will arrive on Monday, or there will be serious repercussions. Pack one bag with necessities. Uniforms will be provided. A driver will arrive to collect you at seven in the morning. No exceptions.’” I paused, my throat drying up as my heart did several flipflops, and a grim sense of foreboding weighed heavily in my stomach. “Is this a joke?” I whispered. I suspected it wasn’t. Not with all the other strange happenings lately. I looked over at my mom. “It’s a private school?”

Her eyes were wide as saucers, and fear turned her creamy skin pasty. “Yes.” She clutched her hands together as though doing so could hold off the inevitable. “I spoke to your father. He said he…” She shook her head, and her features shifted to determination. “It’s not happening,” she continued, taking the invitation and tearing it up before tossing the pieces into the trash. “Never you mind,” she whispered harshly. “I’ll take care of it.”

“What is the Wolf Blood Academy?” Forcing down my fears, I took her hand. Since Dad left, it was up to me to keep her calm.

“It’s a school for those…” She didn’t finish, glancing down at our hands clasped together.

Hers shook, and I held on tighter. “You can tell me, Mom.”

“Give me a minute,” she said and walked out of the living room and

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