“Where’s Emerra this morning?”

“Haven’t seen her.”

“She’s usually up earlier than this.”

“She might be sleeping in.”

Kappa wound his way through the forest of legs. Chair legs. Table legs. People legs. He tried to home in on the deep voice that had just spoken. The cold floor made his feet ache.

“Oh, dear. I sent Kappa to her. Do you think he’ll wake her up?”

That was Iset.

“Kappa’s in here,” the deep voice said. “He’s under the table.”

Kappa hopped over. Furry feet. It was him. Kappa emerged from under the table and looked up the impossible distance.

“Wolfman,” he whined.

“Igor, are you holding breakfast for her?” That was Darius.

“For what little good it will do.”

“How do you mean?”

“She’s eating less than usual these days. But she’s drinking twice as much coffee.” Igor shrugged.

“Wolfman, it’s cold,” Kappa said.

Conrad looked down. “Umm.”

“I already lit the fire in his stove,” Igor said. “It should be plenty warm in there.”

Kappa shook his head so hard, his fins flapped. “Mera-mera. No fur, wolfman!”

Conrad lifted his head. “Did Emerra go outside?”

“Are you kidding? It’s freezing out there,” Olivia said. “There’s almost three inches of new snow.”

“No, no, no,” Kappa muttered.

Darius said, “That’s probably why she went outside.”

Igor sighed. “I’ll start some cocoa.”

“Wolfman, no fur. It’s cold.”

“It’s all right, Kappa,” Iset assured him. “She has a coat.”

“Only lunatics like snow,” Olivia grumbled.

“I take it you’re not a fan of winter sports?” Darius asked.

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

“Conrad!” Kappa shouted.

The bark of his voice reached every corner of the kitchen. Everyone fell silent.

“Conrad, come!”

Conrad Bauer warily stood up.

Kappa, who hadn’t stopped glaring at him since he yelled his name, slapped the floor in front of him, then turned and crawled out of the kitchen. Conrad followed.

Kappa led him to the front stairs and hopped up them so fast Conrad had to work to keep up. The wolfman’s sense of unease grew with every step.

Kappa turned down the hall. When Conrad saw that Emerra’s door was open, he stepped over the bog-creature in order to get there first.

He didn’t bother knocking. He went in while calling out, “Emerra?”

She was still in bed. For a half-second, Conrad felt relieved, but then he saw her pallor. As he crossed toward her, new details pattered into his consciousness. Her stillness. The slight blue in her lips. The cold of the room.

“Mera?” He knelt down by her bed. “Mera!”

When he grabbed her shoulder, it felt like clay.

Conrad felt a sudden chill at his left side.

Fangs bared, he half yelled, half snarled, “Get away from her!”

The chill receded.

Conrad looked back at Emerra. She was alive. He could smell that.

“Kappa, go into her bathroom. You know a bathtub?”

“Hot bath!”

“No! Warm. Start the water running warm.”

“Warm!” Kappa was gone.

Conrad checked Emerra’s breathing, her heartbeat, and the color of her fingertips, then he stripped the blankets off her and picked her up. She lolled in his arms. He went into the bathroom and lowered her into the tub, clothes and all.

“Kappa, go get Darius.”

“Yessir!” Kappa padded away.

Conrad put a hand to Emerra’s cheek, then put his other hand in the water.

It was still too warm. Raising the temperature of her limbs too fast could be dangerous. He’d have to raise it slowly.

He knew that—

But he had to force himself to turn the knobs until the water was barely tepid. The shock was wearing off; he wasn’t running off instinct and training anymore, and some part of him kept insisting that she wouldn’t like it that cold. No one would ever want a bath that cold.

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I remember the haze—the dullness of the whole scene. The first thing that offered me any clarity was the prick of a million needles dancing around my body. Or maybe they were sparks because fire followed wherever they went.

It should have hurt. It did hurt, but I wanted it. The warmth was glorious.

I was so tired, I could barely move. I wouldn’t have even opened my eyes if I hadn’t felt the wet sleeve of my over-sized T-shirt float into my arm.

I forced myself to look then, to figure out where I was and what was happening.

The first thing I saw was a copper faucet, so I knew I was in my bathroom. I loved that silly, old-timey tap, with its telephone-shaped sprayer (that I may or may not have pretended to take a call from…once or twice…not more than three times, anyway). I was in my tub. Still in my pajamas.

Then I saw Conrad. His muzzle was resting on the edge of the tub. He was watching me with sad eyes and his ears back.

When he saw I was awake, he raised his head and said in a loud, almost desperate voice, “This, Emerra! This is why we don’t like ghosts!”

The ghosts were standing behind him, barely inside the door. If Conrad had looked worried, it was nothing compared to the children. When I saw Jan crying, it broke my heart.

I reached out my arm.

“No! Anna, Jacob, it’s not your fault. Jan, listen to me, sweetie—it’s not your fault. I didn’t know.”

But they wouldn’t come any closer.

Jacky was standing in the door behind them. I felt the weight of his empty eye-sockets resting on me, then he looked down at the children.

“If you three could please come with me. I would like to have a word with you.”

They all filed away.

I let out a cry. It sounded like a noise Kappa might make. I closed my eyes and curled into the warm water. I didn’t have any tears. Why was it, when I finally wanted them, they wouldn’t come?

Conrad put his hand on my head.