Like that, Parents' Weekend drew to a close. The quad slowly emptied as families said their goodbyes—so tearful, so relieved, so dramatically affectionate.
Enid stood near the entrance with her parents. Esther pressed a thick stack of glossy brochures into her hands, smiling a little too brightly.
"Well, Enid, here," she said.
Enid looked down at the pile, blinking. "What are these?"
"Lycanthropy conversion camps," Esther replied matter-of-factly. "Very reputable. Structured. Intensive. Results-oriented."
Enid's ears practically flattened. She flipped through one brochure, eyes skimming phrases like Accelerated Wolfing Out and Unlock Your True Potential.
"Oh," she said weakly. "Fun."
Her father gave her an apologetic smile from behind Esther, hands tucked into his pockets, saying nothing—but the look was familiar.
"But I won't be going to any camps," Enid said, still smiling—but this ti there was steel under it. "When I wolf out, I'll do it on my own. Not on so titable."
For a split second, Esther's expression froze. She clearly hadn't expected resistance—certainly not delivered so calmly.
"Well," a familiar voice cut in, "that was perfectly stated."
Ethan seed to materialize beside them, hands in his pockets, tone casual as if he hadn't just walked into a family standoff.
Enid turned, startled. "Where did you even co from?"
"Strategic timing," he replied lightly, then turned to Esther. "You don't need to worry about Enid. I'm confident she'll wolf out when she's ready. This isn't sothing that can be forced. You should trust her—she trusts herself. As her parents, shouldn't you do the sa?"
Esther hesitated. The worry was still there, etched deep, but Enid's expression didn't waver. She looked happy. Certain.
After a mont, she sighed. "Well… take care of yourself, Enid."
Her father stepped forward then, wrapping Enid in a warm hug. "We're proud of you," he said softly, smiling in a way that said everything he couldn't out loud.
They turned and walked away together.
Enid watched her parents disappear into the crowd, her shoulders finally loosening. When she turned back, her smile was softer, more real.
"Thanks," she said quietly. Yesterday, he'd given her sothing she hadn't realized she needed—confidence. The courage to stand her ground. The reassurance that soone would stay, wolfed out or not.
Ethan opened his mouth to reply.
She didn't give him the chance.
Rising onto her toes, she leaned in and kissed him—light, quick, impulsive. Pure Enid. It lingered just long enough to make his breath catch before she pulled back again, barely five seconds later.
She smiled up at him, slipping her arm through his.
"Well," she said, voice warm, "thanks for coming into my life."
Ethan smiled. "I'm glad I ended up with a little colorful wolf in mine."
Enid's expression shifted—just slightly. Curious. A hint of jealousy she didn't bother hiding.
"By the way… Wednesday didn't co back to the room last night. And you vanished from campus too. Did you do sothing behind my back?"
Ethan blinked once. 'Wow. That was fast.'
"Nothing scandalous," he said easily. "Unless you count grave digging."
Her eyes widened. "Grave… digging?"
"Mm-hmm. , Wednesday, and her mother," he added. "We got arrested for it. Spent the night in a cell."
Enid stopped walking. "Why are you digging graves?" she demanded. "Do you ever do normal things? Like sleep? Or text?"
"Enid, we're Outcasts," Ethan said with a shrug. "Being weird isn't unusual—it's basically the admission requirent."
***
On Wednesday's side, the goodbyes were quieter.
Morticia walked beside her as they moved away from the others, the yearbook tucked under her arm.
"As I leafed through the pages of this yearbook," Morticia said softly, pressing it into Wednesday's hands, "I was reminded of all the wonderful tis I had here."
She paused, then added with gentle certainty, "But those mories were mine. You have your own path to blaze."
Wednesday looked down at the book, then back up.
"I don't want to be a stranger in your life, darling," Morticia continued. "If you need —for anything at all—I'm only a crystal ball away."
"Thank you, Mother," Wednesday said.
Morticia's expression shifted, just a fraction. "And be careful with your visions."
Wednesday stiffened. "How did you know?" she asked. "Did Thing tell you?"
Morticia smiled faintly. "I'm your mother, Wednesday. I began having visions at your age too." Her gaze lingered, gentle but perceptive. "And you've never been good at hiding things from —especially when you think you are."
That gave Wednesday pause.
"But ours aren't the sa," Morticia went on. "My visions were… kinder. I see possibility—paths that lead to hope. Different wavelengths." She studied her daughter closely. "That's why I'm called a dove."
"You," Morticia continued, "see what others refuse to look at. Violence. Betrayal. Death. You see danger before it arrives." Her voice lowered. "That's why they call you a raven."
"I want to help you," Morticia said gently. "But it isn't my place. When the ti is right, soone from the spirit world—soone from our bloodline—will guide you."
"Soone like Goody?" Wednesday asked.
Morticia's gaze darkened. "Is she your guide?"
"I believe so."
"Then be cautious," Morticia said, her voice firming. "Goody was a powerful witch, but her thirst for revenge consud her. It blinded her. In the end, she couldn't even save herself."
"Tread carefully, Wednesday."
Then, almost casually, "And about that boy. Ethan."
"I have no romantic feelings for him," Wednesday replied imdiately, not missing a beat.
Morticia arched a brow. "Is that so?" A faint smile touched her lips. "Interesting. I didn't say anything about romance."
Wednesday's gaze snapped at her mother.
"Goodbye, Mother," Wednesday said, and turned away before Morticia could respond.
Goz watched her go, her figure retreating across the courtyard.
"Is sothing amiss?" he asked lightly.
Morticia's gaze lingered on their daughter. "Wednesday has ford an attachnt," she said, her voice calm, almost clinical. "She simply refuses to acknowledge it."
Goz's eyes sparkled with instant understanding. "Ah. The boy." He nodded once, decisively. "I approve." A proud smile followed. "An excellent match."
Morticia allowed herself the faintest smile. "She will deny it for as long as she is able."
"Naturally," Goz replied warmly. "She is our daughter."
*****
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