Passing the Containment Zone, I literally bumped into Vivian Brown.

Judging by her direction, she was coming from Caleb's area.

Vivian offered a timid smile,

"Luna, you look like you didn't sleep well. Is everything okay?"

She was always like this in front of others.

Quiet, shy, the picture of a fragile little flower.

I had no energy for her act and moved to walk straight past.

A few passing researchers glanced our way, clearly interested in the drama.

Vivian grabbed my arm, her voice carrying just enough for the audience.

"Luna, wait. I just wanted to check on Caleb. He seemed really upset about the reassignment."

She paused, eyes glistening with rehearsed concern.

"I hope... I hope it wasn't because of me?"

The researchers murmured. Of course they did. Sweet, delicate Vivian, always worried about everyone else.

I pulled my arm free.

"Caleb's not my concern anymore. Feel free to visit him all you want."

Vivian's eyes widened — perfectly timed surprise. "You really gave him up? But you loved him so much..."

"People change."

I walked away before she could add another line to her script.

But I heard her behind me, voice pitched to a sorrowful whisper loud enough for everyone:

"Poor Caleb. He must be devastated."

In the lab, I threw myself into work. My research on beastkin behavioral adaptation was due next month, and with Asher as my new subject, I had plenty to study.

Speaking of Asher — I'd left him at home with strict instructions: don't answer the door, don't eat anything under the sink, and please don't shift into rabbit form on the balcony. The neighbor's cat was aggressive.

My phone buzzed.

A photo from Asher: the living room, now suspiciously clean, with a small vase of wildflowers on the table.

[I found these in the garden! Is it okay?]

I smiled without realizing it.

[It's perfect. I'll be home by 6.]

[I'll make dinner!]

[You can cook?]

[...I can try!]

I pocketed my phone, still smiling, and nearly walked into my father.

He looked at my face, then at the phone, then back at my face.

"You're smiling," he observed. "You haven't smiled in weeks."

"It's the new beastkin. He's... different."

"He?"

I'd forgotten. The file said female.

"Long story. I'll explain later."

My father studied me with that analytical gaze he usually reserved for gene sequences.

"Whatever that rabbit is doing, keep it up. You look human again."

On my way out that evening, I passed the Containment Zone one last time.

Through the glass, I could see Caleb. He was sitting in the far corner, his back to the world, wolf ears pressed flat.

In his hands were a stack of small, colorful papers.

My vouchers.

He was counting them.