Chapter 2

Claire's POV

Lucas runs over and wraps himself around my leg.

"Mom, just let Snow stay in here. It'll be scared all by itself."

I look down at him. "So when I'm scared, who stays with me?"

Lucas freezes.

Ethan jumps in right away. "You're a grown woman. You're really going to hold a grudge against a little animal?"

I smile and step over to the cage.

Snow lunges at me. I'm ready for it and turn aside. Its teeth catch the cage door instead, a hard little clack.

Lucas glares at me. "Mom, why'd you dodge? Snow just wants to play with you."

"It was trying to bite me."

"Then you must've done something wrong."

He says it without a shred of doubt.

I look at this child I carried for ten months, and all of a sudden he feels like a stranger.

In my last life, when my fever hit a hundred and four, all he did was stand by the cage and ask if Snow was hungry.

When I passed out from the bites, he actually said it was my body being too weak that kept Snow from getting enough blood.

Ethan bends down and coaxes the hamster in the cage, his voice so gentle it grates.

"Don't be scared. She won't hurt you."

Something turns over in my stomach.

He's never once coaxed me like that.

Snow spins around and comes at me again.

This time I reach out and grab it.

It thrashes in my palm, its little claws raking the back of my hand, and streaks of blood come up fast.

Lucas starts crying. "Mom, you're hurting it!"

Ethan's face drops hard.

"Claire, let go."

"Weren't you the one who said it understands people?" I put on an innocent look. "I'm just bonding with it."

Ethan reaches out to grab it back.

I press Snow down onto the sheets and look at him, cold. "One more move and it might not make it."

His hand stops in midair.

And for that one second, I see real fear in his eyes.

Not worry for me. Fear that Snow might get hurt.

I let go.

Snow scrambles back to the bottom of the cage, its body trembling.

Ethan bends down and lifts it out, as careful as if he's holding a newborn.

"It's okay now," he says under his breath. "I'll keep you safe."

I stand off to the side and quietly start recording on my phone.

That night, Ethan puts Lucas to bed.

When he comes back to the bedroom, he brings a glass of warm milk.

"Drink this," he says. "You got hurt today. Get some rest."

I take the glass and sip a little.

A faint bitterness settles at the back of my tongue.

I look at him. "What's with the sudden concern?"

"I'm your husband."

He says it like it's nothing, but his eyes keep drifting to the cage on the nightstand.

I yawn, playing it up. "I'm so tired."

His shoulders visibly loosen.

"Get some sleep. I'll sleep in Lucas's room tonight so I don't keep you up. Call me if you need anything."

I set the milk on the nightstand and lie down under the covers.

"You get some sleep too."

He turns off the light and pulls the door shut behind him. I close my eyes and slow my breathing.

Before long there's a faint scratching at the cage door.

Snow works its way out, climbs down off the nightstand to the floor, and darts to the gap under the door, squeezing through underneath.

From the other side comes Ethan's low voice.

"Easy. Don't leave a mark that's too obvious."

"She'll sleep hard tomorrow. When she wakes up, we'll just say she hasn't been feeling well."

After a short silence, that white shape slips back in under the door.

Snow climbs onto the bed again and presses its cold body against my wrist.

It circles once, then settles right over the pulse, like it's confirming where the blood runs.

My fingers curl slowly under the covers.

Not until this moment am I completely sure that glass of milk was no accident.

Snow opens its mouth and drives its teeth toward my wrist.

My eyes snap open. I whip my other hand around, grab the restraint strap I stashed under the pillow, and loop it over its body.

It thrashes like crazy, claws tearing at the back of my hand.

Quick footsteps sound outside the door.

"Mom, what are you doing?"

Lucas shoves the door open, Ethan right behind him. The second he sees Snow in my hand, the color drains from his face.

"Let it go!"

I look up at him. "Why are you so worked up?"

Snow's mouth is still open, teeth aimed at my wrist.

Ethan moves toward me a step at a time. "Claire, let go. Now."

"And if I don't?"

He reaches out to snatch it.

I pull the strap another inch tighter.

Snow lets out a shrill cry.

Ethan stops cold.

"Don't move," I say, holding his eyes. "Or it stops breathing first."

"Mom, why are you hurting Snow?"

Lucas is crying so hard he can barely breathe, his fingers clamped onto the hem of Ethan's shirt.

I sit on the bed, the cut on my wrist still seeping. Snow twists against the strap, its little claws dragging line after line across the sheets.