Sadie's face turned pale and her eyes grew wide the moment Jessica told her that Cynthia hadn't been seen for a few days.

"D...did the serum work on her? Is she transformed as I am?" Sadie thought as she turned to leave the class and head towards Cynthia's house.

But as she tried to leave, she crashed into the slim frame of Professor Peestain, also known as Professor Pete. "Where do you think you are going, Miss Sadie?" he scolded, fixing his dull gray tie back to the middle of his disheveled white shirt.

"I don't feel well today; I think my period is coming soon or something. I need to go home."

Sadie tried to intimidate him with problems he couldn't experience, but Professor Peestain started laughing with a depressed tone, the offensive smell of alcohol reeking from his breath as he said.

"Nice try, hang your coat and go sit in your place right this instant. You can get your period after our period is over."

"But sir I..."

"Now." He commanded, his eyes serious behind frameless glasses.

Sadie rolled her eyes and started unbuttoning her coat, yet just as she reached the third button and looked down, she realized she had no clothes underneath and immediately rebuttoned them, hoping no one else noticed.

She then went and sat next to Jessica in the middle of the class, unlike her usual seat at the back because now she was anxious to find a way to get out.

"What if I turn invisible and sneak out?" she thought as she started considering her options. "But that only works if I remain unmoving and is utterly useless in this case."

She started tapping her leg on the ground while sighing. "I could unsheathe my claws and slaughter everyone in the classroom." She considered the thought for a while before deciding against it. "No, that would be too messy."

Jessica gave her a side glance with her green eyes, her small red retrousse nose twitching with intrigue between her freckled cheeks.

"You are annoying me, Sadie; stop shaking in place!"

"I need to find a way to get out of Professor Peestain's class now."

"You should know better than trying to leave Professor Pete's class, Sadie. No one has been able to do that since two decades of him teaching. Why are you so anxious to leave anyhow? Going to check on Cynthia?"

Sadie answered her dismissively, "what I do afterward is none of your business; just help me by distracting him for a bit as I make a run for it."

"If that's the case, then you're on your own," Jessica riposted as she started adjusting her leaning back to her chair to end the conversation.

Sadie gave a quick side glance to the board; Professor Peestain was busy drawing circles and squares and all kinds of mathematical drivel. Seeing him busy, she caught Jessica by her blonde braids and pulled her near.

"Listen here, Blondie, I am over my ears with problems. There's a criminal syndicate operating right in front of my house, and I know where the boy is. I have almost been killed for what I know. Do as I tell you, or I swear to God I will make it my life's purpose to bring terror to every waking second of your good life. Understood?"

Jessica yelped like a rabbit caught by the ears, and Sadie released her forceful grip on her braids.

"Is there anything at all you know that might help me to evade professor Pete? You are known as the queen of gossip, you surely know something."

"Am I?" Jessica wondered. "Don't know how to feel about that."

"Think!"

"Well..." Jessica hesitated, because her answer would give credence that she was indeed the queen of gossip. She lowered her eyes while tapping fingers on her desk, "There is this one thing..."

"Yes?"

"After his wife left him, there had been rumors that Professor Pete developed a drinking problem and that he keeps vodka bottles stacked in the third drawer of his desk."

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"Couldn't you've told me sooner?"

"Can't you smell it on his breath?"

"Okay, listen to me well. If you are sure the professor hides bottles of vodka in the drawer of his desk. I want you to go pretend to be asking him a question and use your leg to open it, letting the bottles roll out and crash. That'll give me time to bust out of here. Do it now."

No one had ever dared to challenge Jessica's attitude then order her around in such a way before, so she swallowed her pride, finding the situation peculiar, and did as Sadie asked.

Jessica approached the sitting Professor Pete, who fixed his glasses with his index finger as she leaned on the desk, guiding his sight to a mathematical problem on the paper.

Jessica's leg explored the bottom of the desk sneakily, guided by occasional glances to ensure she was opening the correct drawer. However, no matter how often she tried to slip it open by passing her leg near, she was unsuccessful.

Time was running out; Professor Pete was almost done explaining the exercise, and no other questions crossed her mind. So, she bent her leg around the handle, holding it between her calf and thigh before squeezing it open with a slight leap.

Bottles started rolling out the moment she succeeded, one after another falling and exploding on the ground.

"What have you done?!" the professor erupted, almost pushing her away as he got on all fours, trying to save the remaining bottles from rolling out.

It was Sadie's opportunity; she rose from her seat and walked quickly outside. She kept up her pace until she reached Cynthia's neighborhood.

Sadie had never been to the Sinclair district before; it was reserved for the rich and fancy families. The architecture of the buildings was modernist and foreign, as if the apartments were blocks suspended in midair by some unknown force.

The sunlight was oppressed by their towering bulk, and the streets were divided into squares of shadow and light, giving Sadie the sense that she was walking into a cultic assembly to be initiated by some grand wizard with a funny hat.

As she reached Cynthia's house, an involuntary feeling of jealousy gripped her as she slipped inside the gate. Cynthia's father was a stockbroker who made his fame and fortune by investing in Neomwatch cellphones, the first phones to incorporate touch screens and have video calls, you could practically touch the person you were speaking with.

Despite possessing the mind of a visionary, he

had a taste for Greek architecture. Sadie stood between flowering bushes in the lush landscape of the gated garden, captivated by the neoclassical structure of the castle in which Cynthia lived.

Ionic columns held its symmetrical facades, and a sense of proportion inspired by antiquity made it radiate magnificence. The simplicity of the clean lines reminded Sadie of the beauty of Cynthia herself.

"Of course, she lives in a castle," Sadie smirked. "What a princess; all that's missing is a drawbridge and a troll under. She doesn't need someone like me after all."

Sadie didn't feel like sitting under a bridge today, so she rewound her steps and decided to go back. Yet, as she was leaving, a suited butler startled her.

"You must be one of Cynthia's classmates."

"Yes... I came to check on her. I have no reservation or date or whatever is required for a visit. Tell her I passed by if you will."

"You are welcome to tell her yourself," the butler responded. "The girl hasn't left her room for so long. She would be grateful for your presence."

Sadie felt worried, and she let the butler lead her to the grand halls of the castle. As he knocked on Cynthia's bedroom, announcing she had a visitor called Sadie, Cynthia's voice rose from behind the door.

"What is this about? I told you NO visitors! Guide her out."

The butler turned to Sadie and offered her an explanation for Cynthia's barricade, "Do not take it personally. The miss must be upset as she had not washed herself today, so be mindful she might be feeling a bit self-conscious."

"Sir James Walton!" Cynthia yelled offended from inside the room, "stop speaking nonsense and tell her to go away. I do not wish to see anyone."

"Very well, Miss Cynthia, but I am afraid it's time for my daily break. I shall return at 2:35 a.m and carry out this duty," the butler said as he started walking away, and Sadie could hear Cynthia complaining.

"I've missed seeing you," Sadie whispered near the door.

"Why? So you could spit in my face?! Haven't you humiliated me enough?"

"It wasn't like that," Sadie insisted. "Just open up, and I'll explain everything. Please."

"We are through! I blame myself for ever trusting you," Cynthia screamed.

Sadie sighed. With some mental effort, she let sprout her sloth claws and started manipulating the door lock so she could see her friend.

When the door was opened, she saw Cynthia leaning against the bed, looking at her with glistening hazel eyes and an innocent expression full of sadness. Small round ears, like a bear cub's, were quivering between her hair.

"Even in misery, she looks so beautiful..." Sadie thought as she hurried to the side of her friend. "What happened to you?"

Cynthia paused her sobs as she talked, "I was running in the garden, playing with my smaller sister. All of a sudden, I felt my hands and feet heavy as paws and... And then I fell."

She started crying, unable to continue describing what occurred. Sadie contemplated her for a minute; she looked so natural and raw in beauty. Even though she could have never guessed Cynthia's spirit animal to be a fierce bear, her transformation went much smoother than Sadie's.

"It's not so bad," Sadie said, trying to comfort her.

"Not bad?!" Cynthia yelled furiously, "I've got fur between my toes!"

Sadie's eyes traced Cynthia's legs; she had fur around her calves like some sort of furry leg warmer, and Sadie's sense of restraint began to dissolve under the spell of Cynthia's savage grace. She longed to trespass further, and she couldn't resist reaching out to comfort her.

"It'll be alright," Sadie said with a trembling voice as she passed her hand all along Cynthia's furry leg.

"Don't stroke my fur!" Cynthia yelled as she retreated her legs away. Then she continued crying. But as she cried harder, a snarling growl sound, like a hoarse bear, erupted from her wails, making her put both hands to her mouth in shock at the sound that came out of her.