chapter 4

I decided I had to know the truth. Not just to prove Sophia's innocence, but for my own peace of mind. So, I bought a miniature camera. It was tiny; I hid it inside the smoke detector in the living room, pointing it directly at the sofa.

That was the spot where Sophia waited for me every night.

On the day of installation, I took a half-day off and set it up while Sophia was grocery shopping. I connected it to my phone. The picture quality was sharp. Looking at my familiar living room on the screen, I felt a mix of complicated emotions.

I hoped I was just being paranoid.

Over the next few days, I continued to come home on time, and Sophia behaved just as usual, gentle and considerate.

But I couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.

The meat she ate became rawer and rawer. She used to like her steak medium-well; now she wanted it rare—bloody rare. Sometimes, waking up in the middle of the night, I would find the space beside me empty. Walking out of the bedroom, I'd see her squatting on the balcony, staring blankly at the moon. Her silhouette looked lonely, yet radiated an indescribable eeriness.

Until Friday.

That day, my boss sent me on a business trip to a neighboring city, requiring an overnight stay. My instinct was to refuse, but this was a major client I couldn't afford to offend. So, I had to call Sophia and tell her I wouldn't be coming back that night.

Sophia was silent on the other end of the line for a long time. Long enough that I thought the signal had cut out.

"Jack," her voice trembled slightly, "are you really not coming back?"

"I really can't get away. I'll catch the first train back tomorrow morning."

"Then you... be careful." She hung up.

I stayed in a motel in the neighboring city, restless and anxious.

At 10:50 PM, I opened the surveillance app on my phone.

The image loaded. The living room lights were off, with only the moonlight from the window seeping in. Sophia sat on the sofa wearing that white dress. Her head was bowed, her hands gripping her knees deathly tight, knuckles white. Her body was trembling violently, as if enduring immense pain. I stared at the screen, not daring to breathe.

Time ticked by, second by second.

10:58.

10:59.

11:00.

The figure on the screen suddenly went still. The next second, she jerked her head up.

My phone nearly slipped from my hand in terror.

That face was twisted out of shape. Her mouth gaped open at an impossible angle, as if her jawbone had dislocated.

Even without sound, I could imagine the sickening crack of shifting bone. Her body began to expand, the originally well-fitted white dress stretching taut. Her spine writhed under her skin like a living snake.

What... was that?

I zoomed in on the image. Thick black fur was sprouting from her arms. Her fingernails lengthened at a speed visible to the naked eye, becoming curved, sharp, like steel hooks. She squeezed a guttural roar from her throat. Her entire body sprang from the sofa, landing on all fours. That was no longer a human posture.

It was a wolf.

A wolf wearing human skin.