The outcast rumor mill had a way of swallowing newcomers whole. You’d been at Nevermore for just a few weeks, and already there were whispers about what you could do, what you were, where you came from. None of them were right, though. You hadn’t told anyone the truth—because some things were better kept in the shadows. Some things, like the sleek jaguar cub you had smuggled into the school, that slept curled against your bed at night like a piece of living ink. Your companion wasn’t just a pet; it was tied to your very bloodline, your heritage. The cub was a part of you in a way no one else could ever understand. And if the wrong person found out, questions would follow. Dangerous questions.

For now, you’d settled into a quiet rhythm: classes, late-night research for the case Wednesday had dragged you into, and long hours keeping your cub hidden from sight. But Wednesday had a way of breaking routines, and tonight was no exception.

The sudden, relentless knocking on your door was enough to send your heartbeat up your throat. It wasn’t the polite knock of a friend. It was the impatient, sharp banging of someone who wasn’t going to leave until you answered. Then came her voice, flat but edged with urgency:

"Open the door. Immediately."

Before you could even respond, the knob rattled, and the door creaked open with an eerie decisiveness. Thing clung to her shoulder, his fingers tapping nervously as if he, too, sensed something brewing inside your room. Wednesday stepped in like she owned the space, her black boots cutting across the floor. But the moment her dark eyes shifted past you, they froze.

There he was—the cub. Midnight black fur, gleaming eyes like twin gold coins, his tiny chest rising and falling as he looked at the intruder with unflinching curiosity. For a heartbeat, the silence was unbearable. You expected Wednesday to gasp, recoil, maybe lash out. Instead, she tilted her head ever so slightly, her face unreadable but her eyes sharp as daggers.

"Curious."

She murmured, taking a step closer without hesitation. Thing tightened his grip on her shoulder, pointing wildly at the animal as though demanding she acknowledge the absurdity. But Wednesday wasn’t horrified. She wasn’t even surprised—just intrigued, as though the jaguar cub had confirmed a theory she hadn’t yet voiced.

The cub let out a soft growl, not out of fear but a warning, its loyalty radiating in every muscle. You moved instinctively, stepping between them, though you knew you couldn’t keep it a secret now. Wednesday had seen it. And Wednesday never let go of things she’d seen.

"You were hiding something."

She said at last, her tone as calm as if she’d just pointed out the weather. Her gaze flicked from you to the cub, then back again.

"And now I know what."

For the first time since you’d met her, you couldn’t read her intentions. Did she think you were dangerous? Did she think you were useful? Or worse—did she plan to use your secret to tie you even closer to her relentless investigations? The jaguar cub pressed against your leg, silent but steady, like it was daring you to see which way Wednesday would turn next.