The morning sun had barely begun to creep through the curtains when I heard a commotion outside my bedroom door. Groggy and still half-asleep, I fumbled for my phone, squinting at the time. 5:45 AM. Way too early for any of us to be up, especially on a Saturday.

I sat up quickly, my senses sharpening. Something was wrong. Throwing on a sweatshirt, I hurried to the door and pulled it open, nearly colliding with Melissa in the hallway.

“Angie! It’s Lincoln,” she said, her voice laced with urgency.

My heart sank. I pushed past her and rushed to Lincoln’s room, my mind racing. He wasn’t supposed to transform until...