SUNDAY BROUGHT THE promise of a brighter day with the warmth blasting through the bedroom window. I’d spent most of the night twisted by cramps—my fidgeting legs had disturbed Sean, too—and I woke with determination to ease his concerns.
When he turned left toward the bathroom, I headed for the stairs.
If I didn’t do it right then, after spending hours feeding my will power with words of encouragement, it might have been days before I got around to it. I didn’t have that long. The harder I appeared to adjust, the more Sean would blame himself, so I needed to do it for him—and for the others so they could go back to their lives. I also needed to do it for myself. My first conscious change would be difficult enough—if my visions proved correct. I didn’t want one I couldn’t control, or to b
