Stiles left soon after breakfast because my father was on his way home. When he arrived he went straight into his study until dinner. It was our cook's day off so I ended up making spaghetti.

"This is delicious, Sweetheart," He slurped appreciatively, downing his food quickly to return to his study.

"Thanks, dad." I smiled slightly. He was almost finished now. He took one last drink of his wine. Wiping his mouth he made to stand up. I was beyond annoyed that he wouldn't even sit through a full meal with me to ask me questions a father should ask, like 'how was your day?' or 'how is school?' or maybe even 'hey, is Scott a werewolf?'.

Maybe not the last one, but I just wanted him to act like a father instead of a roommate who was never home.

"I saw Derek Hale yesterday." He froze in an awkward position between sitting and standing.

"Excuse me?" He croaked.

"Well, actually I saw him on Tuesday in the woods by his old…." I stopped. His old house was also the site of the fire massacre. Far from making my father stay and talk, he stood up fully and began to interrogate me quickly.

"You didn't talk to him did you?"

"Yeah," I chewed thoughtfully, "yesterday at the party."

"Alone?" He questioned angrily.

"Yeah," I repeated.

"Under no circumstances are you to speak with Derek Hale again, in the presence of people or not!" He commanded. I dropped my fork with a loud clatter, astounded by this sudden outbreak of anger. I was the perfect child anyone would want. I did everything right and to the best of my ability. I didn't do drugs or skip school.

"I can't believe you!" I laughed incredulously, "I can't believe your treating me like a child!"

"You are a child!" He countered.

"I grew up a long time ago, dad." I growled, "When mom died you stopped taking care of me and I had to grow up real fast to take care of you and me, so don't go giving me rules all of the sudden about who I can and cant talk to!

"Derek Hale saved my life! If I wanna talk to him, I will. Maybe you should be a little kinder towards him because if it wasn't for him, you would be short a daughter too." I threw my full dinner plate into the garbage and stormed off to bed without another word.

My dad woke up early to make a call. I had lain in bed all night in a dazed fury, unable to sleep. I opened my door up a crack to hear him walking down the hall talking in a low voice to someone on the phone.

"He's back, Chris." He cleared his throat, listening to the reply I couldn't hear, "He spoke with Mason." Again he waited for a reply. The next thing he said frightened, not only what he said, but how he said it. "I told you about what happened in the forest…I think she's marked…."

He had stepped downstairs and out of my hearing range.

I sat in a stunned stupor for quite awhile. I was marked. I didn't really know what it meant; I just knew it probably wasn't a good thing. Had Scott been marked? Was that something that happened before you turned into a werewolf?

There was something off about this. Why did it really matter if Derek Hale was back? He was just a sad twenty-year-old man who tragically lost everything ten years ago. I could relate to that. I was there, I lost everything in a way too.

What happened in the forest had nothing to do with Derek. He didn't even come to town until the next day. Or, did he? We only crossed paths with him then, but really he could have been in town the day before…or even the night Scott was attacked. He might have gotten in town just as half the body was found….

Ten years had passed since I'd last seen Derek Hale. A lot could have changed since then. Possibly, the kind of change Scott had just gone through….

What had Scott said on Friday? The whole night seemed a big blur after I had spoken with Derek.

I tried replaying the night over again in my head: Stiles and I had gone on a wild goose chase to find Scott. We got to his house and he asked where Alison was. Derek had taken her home, Stiles and I witnessed it. Stiles informed him of it and Scott told us…he told us something about Derek…about the forest…that Derek was the one who had bitten him….

Things started to click. The gears in my brain were whirring rapidly to piece this whole thing together. Derek was a werewolf. Derek bit Scott. Now Scott is a werewolf. My dad told me to stay away from Derek: either he just didn't want me around him because it brought my mother's death back to light or that he knew something about Derek (like that he's a werewolf). I figured the latter since my father had become a pro at shutting things out (namely my mother's death and me).

Why did my dad know about werewolves? He was a politician man. Ridiculous things like vampires and fairies held no interest in him unless they could vote. Who had he called? I knew all his political opponents and friends. Whenever my dad did hold a conversation with me over two minutes, it was to drone on about government tactics and politics. Chris was not a name I remembered and surely he would speak to his fellow politicians about werewolves. They would think he was mad!

I felt a throbbing pain pulse in my right temple. All this conspiracy thinking was giving me a headache. Taking a deep breath in, I advised myself to drop it until I found out all the facts. He could have not been talking about me. They could have been talking about the body in the forest and some politician that was marked for candidacy. Who really knows?

I threw myself on the bed and turned on TV though I barely was paying attention to it. I told myself to fall asleep, that I was going to crash during school tomorrow if I didn't. With the thought of becoming behind on homework, I quickly slipped away into dreamland.

"Do you think I'm crazy?" I asked Stiles who was staring absentmindedly at me. I had just relayed everything I had learned and thought about last night.

"I think this whole thing is crazy," He muttered, "But you make sense."

"Do you know any Chrises?"

"Sure, Chris Mackey in third period Algebra, Christopher Jonson in fourth period Health, Christian Hunt the lacrosse team's Middie, Chris—" I cut him off.

"Okay, but those are all kids. My dad wouldn't be calling up the lacrosse team's Middie to discuss werewolves or politics." I countered.

"True," He sighed. He rested his head in his hands and gazed at something.

"Could it be someone's dad? I know basically everyone in town but I can't recall meeting any adult Chrises. And what does being 'marked' mean? It can't be good. I—Are you even listening to me?" I asked, astonished at him ignoring me at a time like this. Ever since we sat on the green, waiting for Scott to show, he had been distant and oblivious to me. I was seriously worried about me being 'marked' but Stiles however seem untroubled by the fact that I could be assassinated at any moment (though probably not).

I waved my hand impatiently infront of his waved.

"Wha—Oh, sorry." He mumbled. I look over to the area he had been shamelessly goggling at for past ten minutes to see none other than Lydia Martin.

"You are unbelievable." I said in a controlled voice, shaking my head lightly, "I'm telling you I'm probably going to be killed or something and you're staring at that slut?"

He looked deeply offended, "Lydias not a slut!"

"Oh, that bothers you more then your best friend being marked for death? Good to know." I picked up my things quickly in a falsely calm tone. "And, yes, she is a slut. She's over there having sex with her boyfriend in front of the whole school. Get over her, Stiles. She'll never thing you're good enough for her."

I turned around to storm off when I ran smack dab into Scott.

"Scott!" I exclaimed. He looked distant and worried. "Scott, what's wrong?"

"Allison's—" He sputtered. "She—"

"Allison's fine, dude," Stiles was standing next to us in an instant.

"Yeah, we saw her at home after we left your house," I assured him. I grabbed his hand, "What happened, Scott?"

He swallowed forcefully.

"You didn't…kill anyone…" Stiles said in a hushed whisper, "Did you?"

I punched Stiles harder than I usually would have in the side. "Scott, please tell us what happened. You're scaring us…."

He took in a deep, shaky breath and said, "I found Derek last night after I ran into the woods. He told me we were 'brothers' and had to stick together—we were attacked by werewolf hunters—"

I gripped his hand harder, "Scott—"

He shook his head, "Allison's dad was the leader."

There was silence.

"Well, shit." Stiles muttered.