I place a tray of Halo‑Halo on the table, the colors gleaming like jewels in glass. Another of my grandma’s recipes, perfected by Marja, who insists dessert is the glue that holds family together. The sweet chill of shaved ice and fruit seems almost ironic, considering the heat of the questions hanging in the air.
“May we please get to the part of this evening where one of you explains who or what originally created werecreatures?” Anna asks, her tone impatient but curious, eyes flicking between us like she’s waiting for someone to finally spill the truth.
“Once upon a time, there was a—”
“No you don’t,” Shaw cuts in, interrupting me with a smirk. “This isn’t a fairy tale, so it shouldn’t be told as one. Which is why I’m telling her the story.”
“And you think you can teach Anna abo
