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fend for itself.
    By the time I got back downstairs, Brody had arrived and was canoodling on the armchair with Madison and nearly half of the first episode had passed.
    “Come sit with me, my beautiful Manhattan babe,” Ash said, patting the space on the couch next to him.
    I rolled my eyes. “Budge over, buddy,” I said, sitting on the couch. I pulled up my legs, folding them, and grabbed a blanket, draping it over my legs.
    Bandit came trotting into the room, settling on the ground right in front of me. I ran a hand over his head, immediately feeling comforted. Bandit was one of my best friends. Before Madison, I kept to my books, and sometimes after a particularly bad day (like Ash dumping pudding on my jeans during PE so it looked like I had pooped my pants for the rest of the day), I would come home and immediately go to my bed. Bandit would jump on the bed with me and put his head on my lap, and I would tell him about the awful day I had.
    Pathetic, I know. But he was the best dog, such a loyal dog. He couldn’t sit or stay or roll over to safe his life but he was loyal as hell and incredibly protective.
    A pillow fell in my lap, followed by a head of perfectly styled brown hair.
    “You’re comfy,” Ash sighed.
    “Seriously?” I hissed at him, aware of how close he was to me.
    “Shh,” Madison said, glaring at me. “Number one rule of a Buffy marathon is that one does not speak during said marathon.”
    “Yes, ma’am,” Ash said, saluting her as best as he could from my lap. He fell into silence and I reluctantly let him stay.

 
     
     
     
    WE STAYED VIRTUALLY LIKE THAT for the rest of the day. Every once in a while Ash would look up at me when I laughed at a joke or quoted a certain line. His blue eyes would meet my dark brown ones, and I’d frown at his smile. I tried to ignore him, lying in my lap like he didn’t find new ways to drive me insane every single day of my existence.
    We all jumped when the front door swung open bringing in a gust of cold air and then slammed shut. I pushed Ash off my lap and ran to meet Dad in the foyer. He looked exhausted as he hung up his coat in the closet.
    “Are you okay?” I asked, concerned. “Do you need anything?”
    “A coffee would be nice,” he said nodding. “Yeah, it was just a long day. I’m tired.” We moved into the kitchen, and I started pulling the coffee canister out of the cupboard.
    “What happened?”
    Dad and I looked up and saw Madison, Brody and Ash framed in the stairway that led down to the basement floor, where we had been all day. My dad raised an eyebrow at me and I merely raised mine in response.
    I turned to them. “Homicide. At the morgue.”
    “Zoey,” Dad said resigned, collapsing in a chair and propping his feet on the table. I paused for a moment, wondering if I should reprimand him yet again but decided against it.
    “Dad, we’re adults. You can’t keep hiding things from us,” I said, firmly. I emptied the coffee grounds from the day before (he could never remember to do this) and put in a new filter.
    He sighed. We all exchanged looks, wondering if he was going to say anything more. “This doesn’t leave this room. A statement will be released but it won’t be the whole truth.” He looked at us each in turn, as we nodded in agreement. Madison and I both looked incredibly solemn while the boys had a certain gleam in their eyes. I rolled my eyes and turned back to my dad.
    He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “It was brutal. The doctors that were there to study the bodies? Well, they were torn to pieces. This wasn’t a simple shooting or stabbing. This took time.” He ran a hand through his thinning hair. “The coroner said the wounds looked like they were inflicted by teeth.”
    “Um, excuse me?” I asked, baffled, at the same time Brody and Ash said, “Awesome!”
    I pushed Ash away from me and turned back to Dad. “I’m confused. What do you mean? Like an animal?”
    He gave a sort of