SIXTY | IMAGINE

I stepped out of the shower, following my normal routine, and my feet sank into the plush bath mat. I turned, without conscious thought, to face the mirror. As I was raising my hand to wipe the condensation away, I stilled.

I didn’t want to see the fox again. Seeing it in my own reflection had scared me the most. The one I’d seen in the woods earlier could easily have scampered away; it could have been real. The one in the mirror looked like it was real, though, and that was the problem.

I’d never been scared of anything as a human. But, I supposed, I’d never had to deal with anything actually scary before. This was new territory for me – for all of us – and with that in mind I left the bathroom mirror behind, still steamy, still unusable.

For the first time since I’d been turned, I was grateful that I couldn’t feel the cold. The dress I’d picked out for tonight was slinky and short, and, though I was going to layer a jacket over the top of it, it would undoubtedly still leave me too c