Rowena & Eric RowenaThe dining room smelled like garlic and roast chicken, the only sounds that of cutlery on dishes and soft classical music in the background. My parents sat on either end of the table, wearing their more dressed-down—but still dressy enough for a family dinner—clothes. Eric and I sat between them, our gazes fixed on our plates. This was our monthly occasion&mdas

Rowena When I finally found refuge beneath the stairs, there were tears in my eyes for reasons I couldn’t quite understand. I huffed to myself as I sat down, dropping my leather satchel onto the tile floor. “Dammit,” I muttered as I wiped my eyes with my sleeve. I couldn’t believe I was skippin

Rowena The sound of fists pummeling leather filled the air as Eric stood with his back turned to me, sweat running down his skin. He almost seemed to be hitting his punching bag with a primal, feral intensity—almost as though he was trying to get out his anger, or perhaps his frustration. I wasn’t sure why I just stood there, staring at him. Maybe it was simply fascination with his form. 

Rowena The line stretched on endlessly ahead of me, a snaking queue of uneasy students and staff alike. My grip tightened reflexively around the strap of my satchel as I watched another cluster of students get ushered away by the grim-faced guards stationed at the checkpoint, their hazmat suits gleaming dully beneath the morning sun. An icy trickle of dread wormed its way down my spine. The girl in front of me had briefly mentioned something called ‘Wolf’s Fury’, but I

Rowena The minutes seemed to tick by torturously slow, the flickering candle in the middle of the table slowly melting further and further down. I wasn’t sure how long it had been exactly, because part of me was too terrified to check the time, but I knew that he was late. He’ll be here any minute, I kept telling myself, shaking my leg nervously beneath the table. He did say he was running late, after all…