Chapter 5: The Bulb

On the fourth morning, Ansel announced that he had cancelled Denver.

He did it standing in the bakery doorway with his coat dripping on the mat.

"I called the Council at six," he said. "I told them I would not be there Monday. Emmett is going in my place."

"You can do that?" I said.

"They were angry," Ansel said. "I told them that too."

The baker slid a cinnamon roll across the counter to me without being asked and gave him a long look.

"You," she said to him. "Egg or no egg?"

"Egg," Ansel said. "And I'd like to sit at that table with Freja, if she wants me to."

"She does," the baker said, before I could open my mouth. "Go on."

I did want him to.

That was the strange part.

My fever had gone down to a mutter, but I still shook if I stood too long.

My wolf still dragged at the line in my chest like a dog on a short chain.

Ansel sat across from me with his egg and I could not stop looking at his hands.

He had a split on one knuckle from a fence he had hit the night before.

He hadn't told me, and I hadn't asked.

"The Denver trip," I said. "Was that the first time?"

"The first time what?"

"That you left and I found out from somebody else."

He put his fork down.

"No," he said.

I had not expected him to say it so quickly.

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