Well, this is awkward.
The seven of us have been sitting around the Santiagos' large dining room table for the past half hour. Mr. and Mrs. Santiago are seated at the ends, as per usual, with Dylan and Cassie on one side and Eric, Joey, and I on the other. The siblings are eyeing the two werewolves nervously, returning their gazes to me every now and then, as if trying to discern what's really going on.
But they won't get anything else from me, and certainly not from Joey nor Eric. While Mrs. Santiago set the table, I had explained how I came into some car trouble after talking to Cassie on the phone, and ended up having a panic attack. Joey then continued, saying that, by the time they found my Jeep pulled over, all the stress of that day had accumulated into a fainting spell, and they
