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*****
Principal Weems, who had been searching for Wednesday ever since she learned the girl had escaped from therapy, finally spotted her standing on the roadsideâperfectly composed, as if the entire ordeal were nothing more than a mild inconvenience.
"Wednesday," Weems called out, her heels clicking sharply against the pavement as she strode toward her. "What are you doing here? And I heard you escaped from therapy."
Only then did her eyes land on the boy beside her.
Her expression has softened several degrees.
"And Mr. Corvin⊠why, exactly, are you with her?"
Wednesday didn't flinch. She rarely bothered with such mortal displays.
"Evaluating the effectiveness of court-mandated psychiatry," she answered. "I found it⊠lacking."
"You climbed out of a bathroom window."
Wednesday didn't waver.
"That only strengthens my conclusion."
"Whatever your conclusion is, it's irrelevant," Weems snappedâthough even her frustration remained meticulously elegant. "You cannot run from your mandated therapy. Now come back to the academyâimmediately."
Beneath her controlled tone was the quiet resignation of a woman who knew that supervising Wednesday Addams was a full-time occupation⊠and a losing battle the moment she blinked.
Wednesday tilted her head, gaze sharpening.
"Principal Weems, before you drag me anywhereâwhy is he here?" Her attention shifted pointedly to Ethan. "And why are you ignoring the fact that he is off campus during class hours? Violating rules you enforce with religious fervor."
"That is none of your concern, Wednesday."
"It becomes my concern when you enforce rules selectively."
Weems gave her a thin, brittle smileâthe kind that suggested she'd reached the end of her diplomatic reserves.
"One of my responsibilities is determining which students require⊠flexibility," she said. "And which require constant supervision."
Her gaze slid back to Wednesday, heavy with implication.
Accurate implication.
Deeply irritating implication.
Before Wednesday could deliver a rebuttal sharp enough to draw blood, Weems clasped her by the armâfirm, unyielding, practiced.
"That's enough. You're coming with me."
With all the grace of a long-suffering warden, Principal Weems turned and began escorting (dragging) Wednesday toward the car.
"Whooh⊠finally prevented the green-hat scenario," Ethan sighed, letting the tension bleed out of his shoulders as he watched them.
Thenâ
A cold prickling slid down his spine.
Someone was watching him.
Ethan turned around.
Across the street, just outside the Weathervane, Tyler Galpin stood with a to-go cup in hand.
His stare was hostile.
Sharp.
Laser-focused on Ethan.
The kind of glare that didn't need words to say, Why are you with her?
Ethan lifted an eyebrow.
'So the little Hyde was already irritated. How adorable.'
Tyler didn't look away. His jaw clenched, the tiniest flare of instinctive aggression tightening his eyes. He was sizing Ethan upâthreat or nuisance.
"Oh, you don't like me already," he murmured. "Perfect. Saves us both the trouble."
He swung onto his bike in one smooth motion, letting the engine thrum to life beneath him. Before pulling away, he turned his head just enough for Tyler to see the slow, deliberate middle finger he raised in his direction.
The reaction was instantâTyler froze for half a second, a mix of confusion, irritation, and something darker rippling across his face. The Hyde in him stirred, restless.
Ethan smirked.
He didn't take the Hyde seriously.
If Tyler ever tried anything⊠Ethan knew he could end it before Tyler even shifted.
With that calm, lethal certainty, Ethan twisted the throttle and shot down the road, leaving Tyler stewing in his own frustrated silence.
***
Night settled over Nevermore like a velvet shroud.
From the balcony of Ophelia Hall, a lone cello melody drifted into the moonlit airâsomber, elegant, every note spiraling upward to brush against the full moon hanging like a pale, unblinking eye.
On the music stand in front of her, Thing tapped his fingers in a thoughtful rhythm, asking a silent question.
Wednesday paused her playing.
"No. I don't feel better,"
"There's something wrong with this place. Not just because it's an institution designed to torture adolescentsâbut because of everything orbiting it. And that guy who is predicting my every move like an open book." Her eyes narrowed.
"I do not appreciate being read like an open book. I'm accustomed to being the one doing the reading."
The balcony's big window creaked open.
Enid poked her head in. "How did you even get that oversized violin out the window?"
Wednesday lowered her cello with icy precision. "I had an extra hand."
Enid glanced at the rogue hand propped on the music stand.
She blinked. "Whoa. Where's the rest of him?"
"That," Wednesday replied, "remains one of the great Addams Family mysteries."
From the woods below, a chorus of howls tore through the nightâhigh, wild, unmistakably lupine.
Wednesday turned her gaze to her roommate. "Why aren't you wolfing out?"
Enid wilted. "Because I can't." She stepped beside Wednesday and held up her hands, her claws barely extending an inch.
"My mom says some wolves are late bloomers, but I've been to the best lycanologists. And⊠this is all I've got."
"I had to fly all the way to Milwaukee, would you believe it? The specialist said there's a chance I may never⊠you know." Her voice shrank. "Ever."
Wednesday tilted her head. "And what happens then?"
"I'd become a lone wolf." Enid's shoulders slumped. "Do you know what that means?"
"Sounds ideal."
Enid groaned miserably. "Are you kidding? My life would be over. No pack. No mate. No future. Just⊠nothing."
"I still fail to see the tragedy."
"I could die alone!"
"We all die alone, Enid."
Enid stared at her. "You are terrible at cheering people up."
Her voice crackedâand the tears finally spilled.
Wednesday froze mid-breath. "Why are you crying?"
"Because I'm upset! Haven't you ever cried? Or is that beneath you too?"
Wednesday's expression didn't soften, but something old and cold stirred behind her eyes. "It was the week after Halloween. I was six. I took my pet scorpion, Nero, for his afternoon stroll."
Enid sniffled, listening.
"We were ambushed. They laughed at my choice in companions." Her tone stayed steady, but sharp. "Two held me down. The rest ran Nero over untilâŠ" A slight tremor slipped through the words. "I buried what remained of him in the snow. I cried my little black heart out that day."
She lowered her gaze. "But tears do not resurrect the dead. So I vowed never to cry again."
Outside, the wolves howled againâcloser this time, as if reminding Enid of everything she feared becoming.
Enid wiped her face. "Your secret's safe with me. Still think you're weird as shit, though."
"The feeling is profoundly mutual."
"Awwww, it's nice to see you two are bonding."
The voice drifted casually from above.
Both girls snapped their heads upward.
Ethan lounged on the Ophelia Hall rooftop, moonlight painting him in soft silver. The shadows around him seemed to gather instead of vanish. His eyes glowed faintly redâpredatory, amused.
Wednesday's gaze hardened. "Have you no shame in peeping?"
Ethan shrugged, unbothered. "If you didn't want witnesses, you shouldn't have chosen this spot as your emotional counseling chamber." He gestured lazily at the courtyard. "Echoes travel."
Wednesday's stare sharpened to a razor edge. "If you enjoy eavesdropping on private conversations, I suggest you find a hobby. Preferably one that doesn't involve breathing."
Ethan chuckled. "Sadly, that won't work. I don't have a beating heart, so stopping breathing is off the table." He tilted his head. "But for what it's worthâyou play beautifully."
He hopped down from the roof, landing with a soft thud