Brookfall is one of those sleepy little towns nestled in the foothills of some small California mountain range. Plenty of trees, creeks, and open spaces. Perfect if you're looking to get away from it all.

Or away from something specific.

"Maddie, are you going to unpack or keep staring out the window?"

I keep staring out the living room window. "Mom, why did we buy a farm? Are we farmers now?"

She chuckles. "It's not a farm, it's an orchard. A lot of them had to shut down due to the drought. This place was a bargain. You know what ten acres of our own land means?"

"Uh... lots and lots of weeds?"

A sweater hits the back of my head and I turn away from the window. My mom wears a look of pure joy on her face. "It means I can run free, anytime I want. I don't have to drive an hour just to find a spot. I won't have to worry about hunters or campers. You have no idea how long I've been waiting for this."

I smile at her wistfully, wishing I could share her joy. "I'm happy for you, Mom."

"Sweetie, why do you look sad?"

"I'll be all right." I turn back to the window. Truth is, it doesn't matter where we move to. I'd probably feel the same.

"I know it isn't easy being the new kid," she says, placing a hand on my shoulder. "But you're smart and you're adaptable. You'll fit right in before you know it."

"I thought I was supposed to avoid people."

Her expression softens. "Sweetie, we never said that. You just have to be careful how much you reveal about yourself. We want you to have friends."

Keep to myself, but make friends. Got it. "Sure, Mom. Don't worry about me."

She squeezes my shoulder and plucks at my beanie. "Do you always have to wear this thing?"

I tug it back down. "I like it."

"It covers up your beautiful hair."

I pull a chestnut lock off my shoulder and examine it. "Like it matters if anyone notices."

"Maddie... you're antisocial by choice. You're as much a part of me as you are your father. I've seen you when you're friendly. You're quite pleasant to be around."

I roll my eyes at her.

"All right, all right. Sometimes I forget I have a moody teenager now. Go finish unpacking."

I glance around. "Dad's not unpacking. Where is he anyway?"

"Oh you know him. Scouting the perimeter. Doing Stalkerish things."

"Right. Of course." I turn back to the window. A breeze causes the tall grass to sway. "Mom..." What's it like to run like the wind on all fours? To be part of a pack? To be part of... something?

"Yes, sweetie?"

"Never mind." I pull myself away from the window and head back to my room.

My dad has loner tendencies. It's in his nature. And anyone who meets me today would tell you I do too. They would tell you I'm just like him.

Only I'm not. Not exactly.

My parents used tell me about how happy I was as a child, making friends everywhere I went. That I was just like my mother. I had her hair, her eyes. I wish I could tell you what happened. The older I got, the more conflicted I felt.

I yank a box open and begin throwing shoes into my closet. They make satisfying clunking noises as they hit the inside wall and thump to the floor.

"Maddie, I hope you're not doing construction in there," Mom shouts from the room next door.

"I'm putting stuff away!"

A masculine voice from my doorway startles me. "What are you putting away, bowling balls?"

I whip around and find him standing there, smiling lazily. "Dad, you shouldn't sneak up on a girl. It's not polite."

He shrugs. "I can't help it."

"You're back," Mom murmurs as she sidles up to him and curls an arm around his neck for a kiss.

It isn't a simple peck on the cheek and I look away.

"He's right you know," she says after pulling away. "He can't help it. When he walks, he stalks. I can't even smell him."

"Maybe that's a good thing," I reply, coming closer and plucking at his damp shirt. "Look how sweaty he is."

"That's quite possibly the best thing about living with wolves," he says, planting a kiss on top of Mom's head. "Wolfstalker stench is invisible to you."

"I'm not a wolf." My voice is flat as I turn away and head back to my box.

"You're close enough." He gestures toward the window. "Tell me you don't know what today's special is at that diner down the road two miles away. I know we're downwind."

The faint smells of liver and onions have been tickling my nose all afternoon. People actually order that stuff? "Did we move into a retirement community?"

"Agricultural communities have a lot of... traditions." Mom says. She sniffs the air. "Could use a bit of cumin, though, don't you think?"

My sense of smell is keen, but not that keen. I shrug like I don't care, even though it bothers me to be reminded that I'm not the complete wolf she is. "Close enough," I murmur to myself, turning away from them.

"Something wrong, sweetie?" Mom asks.

I look down at the brown carpet. I'm not a whiner. I don't want them to think I'm not grateful for all the love and support they give me. I couldn't ask for better parents. But... these feelings of isolation keep gnawing at me like invisible rats. I kick them away, but more seem to swarm in from different directions.

I don't realize I'm talking until the words are out of my mouth. "Almost doesn't really count."

"What do you mean?" Dad is a trained hunter, but not exactly the best at picking up his own daughter's feelings.

I face them again and lift my eyes. "It's just..." No, don't tell them. They worry enough about you as it is. But I can't seem to stop myself. "I almost have a car. Doesn't mean I have a car. I almost had friends at my last school. Doesn't mean I actually had any. I'm almost a wolf." I drop my gaze to the empty boxes in the corner. "It means I'm not."

Dad is silent as he studies me in that analytical manner of his. "Is this about the car again? Because I thought we said—"

Something inside me snaps. "Honestly, Dad! It's not about the stupid car. You don't get it! I don't know how you can call yourself a Stalker when you can't even see what's in front of you. No wonder you left the Order!" I push past him to escape the room.

I stomp out to the front porch and lean against a post to gulp in some fresh air. I hadn't meant to yell at him like that. I sounded like a stupid, petulant child. What was wrong with me?

"Ruby, what are we doing wrong?" I can hear Dad asking Mom, even though they're speaking quietly inside the house. My hearing may not be as acute as Mom's, but they're still wolfish enough to eavesdrop from outside.

"She's working through some issues, Nate," Mom answers. "We just have to... let her."

Poor Dad. He thinks it's his fault.

Well, I guess it kind of is? A Wolfstalker marrying a Shifter is unheard of. Some would say ridiculous. Yet that's what my parents did.

And then they made me.

Mom is right. I have been facing some issues. The term has different meanings for me than for most girls my age. A typical girl might have issues like these:

- Does that guy like me or not?

- Should I study or hang out with my friends?

- I don't have enough money for that awesome skirt.

- Do I have spinach in my teeth?

My issues are a bit more abnormal. They tend to sound like this:

- How do I make friends when there are no other half Stalker, half Shifter girls around?

- If I make friends, then I'd have to worry about keeping my family's secret. Is it worth it?

- Why do I feel like I need to be alone, and yet I hate being alone, both at the same time?

- Can people tell what I am?

- Do I know what I am?

- Where is that smell coming from??

When I list it out like that, it doesn't seem so bad. But I think about these things constantly. My parents' love used to be enough for me. I don't understand why it isn't anymore. I never used to feel so out of place in my own skin.

And to make matters worse, school starts in two days.