“I’m hungry,” I told Ford, walking toward the front door without pause.

The more I thought about it, the more certain I was that I did not want to be home alone with a hunting wolf.

“Let’s go get sandwiches from your friend. Elliot, right? The one with the gross PB&Js.”

At that point, I was talking to myself more than him, but my nerves were starting to get to me, so I wasn’t going to question that.

We stepped out on the porch, which was pretty small, but there was a hammock ...