Patricia

　　The windows to the lake house are broken when I return from the woods with Dior. People are standing on the porch, talking loudly about the monster snake that attacked. It worries me that almost every teenager from our school saw the monster, including humans.

　　"Damn," I whisper. "Don't you think this will become an immense problem? Humans knowing about our existence never ends well."

　　Dior sighs next to me. I'm refusing to peek at him, ...