Dr. Frey's Opinion

I didn't feel comfortable letting Lunagirl out of my sight after that incident, so against her wishes I kept her inside. She begged me with her adorable meows to let her back, but I knew, just knew, that the second time that thing wouldn't be lenient.

I scheduled an appointment with Dr. Frey and asked for a meeting as soon as possible. He had an opening on the following Wednesday, and so I went. In place of a bowl of cherries there was a small tray of cute colored macarons. I helped myself to, well, all of them (much to my shame; other people would have wanted those) as I waited.

The door to his office gently opened and he beckoned me inside. I practically bowled him over to get to the chair. Dr. Frey said, "Elizabeth, good Lord...what's the matter?"

I settled into the chair, gripping the smooth arms as I worded myself as best I could. Would he, too, think that I was nuts? I had to give it a shot, and I did.

He let me speak, listening intently the entire time and wrote down notes. When I had finished, he took off his glasses, folded them neatly and looked at me, "Elizabeth, listen to me. When you saw this Fear Dubh in that blizzard, you were cold, shaking, the snow obstructing your vision."

"But I know what I saw, Doctor," I pleaded, "it tried to go after my Luna! It's real. Please, please believe me. This thing is real and it killed Catherine."

Dr. Frey frowned, then sat back in his chair and nodded, "I don't know what to say, Elizabeth. Either her illness is spreading or, most unlikely, this creature is real. But let's go back further. Before the blizzard, did you see it then?"

"No, I haven't. But I did get...listen to this. I woke up one morning in December to find that someone had ripped a page out of Catherine's diary and taped it to the front door."

That caught his attention. He leaned forward, "Come again?"

I, too, leaned in, "Someone found Catherine's diary, something she took with her, ripped out the page that detailed her proposing to me, and left it on the front door. I still have it."

"Then tell the police as soon as possible. Why didn't you tell them then?"

That was a good question, but a part of me had a reason: it was a piece of Catherine that I held near and dear to my heart, and by giving it to the police, I would have to give it up. Later that day I did tell the police about my finding, much to their displeasure. They admonished me about not telling them sooner, but days later came back to me and said they could find nothing of use from it. No fingerprints, no markings, nothing. It was as if it just teleported there from nothing.

The rest of the session was unremarkable. He penciled me in for another session soon, and this time he would do a simple test, a similar one he did with Catherine.