Her behavior a dinner aside, Daphne seemed otherwise normal as they cleared the table; Miss Grimwood was instructing the girls to retire to their rooms.

"It's no good if we run around the bog and get separated," she tutted. "But we'll leave lights in the windows, and hopefully they'll be a beacon for poor Winnie."

Daphne, who had been looking through her phone to see if there had been any werewolf sightings in the mortal news, suddenly looked over at Miss Grimwood.

"What did you say!?"

"I said the lights will be a beacon for Winnie," she replied, looking surprised.

Daphne blinked, trying to recall something.

"Daphne?" Vincent asked, his concern growing again.

"Beacon…" she repeated. "I feel like I'm forgetting something important—something about a beacon. I wonder if—JEEPERS!"

She let out a cry of fright as something hit Leonidas II's protective barrier; she whirled around, seeing something bounce off of it—right at the spot where Leonidas II had left the window open at Vincent's request.

Vincent was at the window in an instant, protectively grasping Daphne's shoulder as they watched the creature fly away, off into the night.

"What was that!?" Daphne exclaimed, clearly startled. "It looks like the weirdest bat I've ever seen!"

"That can't be my dad," Sibella insisted. "I'd know his screech anywhere—that wasn't it."

"Not to mention that Voudini would have let us know if Dracula had slipped away," Leonidas II agreed. He looked at Vincent. "I think you were right."

"Right about what?" Daphne asked, looking back at him.

Vincent didn't respond, but he still gripped her shoulder.

"I'm not entirely sure yet, but I think it might have something to do with what Renfield was saying earlier," Vincent said, wondering how much to tell her. "But never mind that; are you sure you're alright, Daphne?"

"Yes; I just got startled," she assured him. "But, wait—are you saying that wasn't a bat? That it was one of those 'flying spiders' that Renfield was talking about? I didn't think we were taking him seriously."

"What, they didn't tell ya?" Elsa asked, not realizing the seriousness of what was going on. "Renfield found spider silk on Winnie's pillow."

"Yeah, just before Shaggy and Scooby heard that weird sound that no one else could hear," Phanty added, as Scooby and Shaggy both cringed.

"I heard that weird sound, too," Scrappy pointed out. "So did Talbot."

"And so did I," Daphne said.

"And so did Winnie," Tanis recalled. "But Winnie was the only one out of all of us who heard it."

"That's weird," Googie frowned. "I definitely didn't hear anything. But I wonder… Winnie is a werewolf, right? And Talbot, who's a wolf, heard the same sound she did. And so did Scooby and Scrappy, who are dogs."

Daphne paled, and Vincent shut his eyes; she'd put the pieces together—or had just about done so.

"Wh-what are you saying!?" Daphne said. "Why would I be hearing the same sounds that dogs and a werewolf would hear!?" She whirled around, staring out the window where the spider-bat had been, and her hand went to her hair again, where all that spider silk had been. "Oh no… No no no no no no…"

"Wait…" Googie said, embarrassed now. "Do you mean you're a werewolf?"

"Not anymore, thanks to my luck potion that I—"

"I thought I was cured!" Daphne cried back, cutting Flim-Flam off. "I thought I was, but…!"

"Daphne, wait," Vincent said, still gripping her shoulder. "Don't jump to conclusions just yet!"

"Yeah, he's right!" Shaggy added, hastily. "I mean, I heard the sound, too—and I was never a werewolf!"

Talbot sniffed at Shaggy and then barked something, prompting Scooby and Scrappy to gulp.

"Uh… Talbot says to ask if you're really, really sure about that one, Shaggy," Scrappy translated, his eyes wide.

Shaggy stared in disbelief.

"You gotta be kidding."

"Rhi don't think so, Rhaggy," Scooby whimpered. "Rhemember that time the three of us went to Moonlit Rhastle? There was a rherewolf running rharound, and Rhi never saw the two of rhou together."

"Uh…" Shaggy said, his expression blank.

Googie was staring at Shaggy now, but Daphne was even more distressed.

"But the flying spiders didn't come for Shaggy—they came for me!" she shrieked. "Just like they came for Winnie! And now I know why—tomorrow's the full moon!"

"Daphne—" Vincent began.

"I'm turning again—I just know it! Flim-Flam's potion has worn off! I'm going to be a werewolf again!"

Covering her face, she ran to her room, holding back sobs.

"Daphne!" Vincent called, running after her, knocking on the door.

"…I think we might've said the wrong thing, Phanty," Elsa realized.

"You didn't mean any harm," Miss Grimwood assured them. "Whatever's wrong, they'll sort it out—you'll see."

"Like, I sure hope so," Shaggy sighed.

"Daphne!" Vincent called again. "Daphne, if you don't open this door, I'll have to open it myself!"

"I've locked the door, so there's no point in trying!" she shot back.

The words were barely out of her mouth when Vincent teleported in the room, his hands on his hips.

"Daphne Ann Blake!" he began, sternly.

She stared, forgetting, for a fleeting moment, about her dilemma.

"…I did not think that one through," she admitted, after a moment.

"Clearly not."

Daphne looked away.

"It always worked on my dad when I was a kid—and a teenager, too," she admitted. "Locking myself in my room and sulking, I mean. He was always so busy that he didn't have the time to try to be so persistent."

"And from what you have implied on multiple occasions, you seemed to have resented him somewhat for his hands-off approach to parenting," Vincent reminded her. "My approach, as you know, is not like that at all, and the ties between us are quite strong because of that. And while I do try not to treat you like a child, you're certainly behaving very childishly at the moment!"

"I'm sorry, but I didn't know what else to do—I had to keep everyone away from me!" she cried.

"Why?" Vincent asked.

She looked at him in disbelief.

"Because I'm turning into a monster, that's why!" she cried back. "In exactly 24 hours, the full moon will rise, and anyone near me is going to suffer the consequences!"

"Listen to me very carefully, Daphne," Vincent replied, sternly. "You are not a monster."

"Oh, really?" she retorted. "Then what else am I!?"

"You are my daughter-by-choice," he replied, calmly. "And no heiress of mine is a monster—the only monster in our family is the ancestor I long rejected."

Daphne looked as though she was about to say something else, but all that escaped her was a squeak as the dam burst and tears poured from her eyes. Vincent drew her into a hug, which she returned instantly.

"I know how frightened you must be—and you have every right to be," he continued, still gently. "But you know that we've always solved our dilemmas together. I see no reason why this should be any different."

"It's different because I'm going to be a danger to others!" she sobbed.

"I know that's not true," Vincent returned. "When I was unsure of my transformation, you, along with the others, refused to believe that I would be a danger to you."

"Because we knew you wouldn't be a monster," she pointed out.

"No. We didn't know for certain what my transformation would be—for all we knew, it could have been a demon form like Asmodeus. Would you have abandoned me then?"

"But you didn't—"

"Humor me and remain in the realms of conjecture for just a bit longer," he requested. "If I had transformed into something like Asmodeus, would you have considered me to be a danger to you?"

"No," she admitted.

"And why not?"

"Because… you're you," she said, simply.

"Exactly," Vincent replied. "No matter what happens, you'll still be you."

She tightened her hug.

"I hear what you're saying—I really do," she promised. "But I'm still so scared…! Isn't there anything you can do? Any kind of spell or magical item?"

Vincent thought for a moment, and then held out his hand, conjuring a small, bronze box studded with emeralds and sealed with a wax seal.

"Take this," he said.

"What's in it?" she asked, taking it from his hand. "Can I open it? What's—?"

"Don't open it yet," Vincent instructed. "Read what it says on the lid."

"…'Open only when all hope is lost,'" Daphne read. "So what is it?"

"You'll find out if you ever need to open it," Vincent replied.

"I feel like I need to now," she admitted. "I'm still so scared."

"Ah, but you certainly haven't lost all hope yet," Vincent reminded her. "We're all still here for you. I know it's a lot to ask of you, but won't you take a chance on us first?"

Clutching the bronze box tightly in her hand, she gave a deep sigh and managed a nod.