Page 49 of Rocky Top

She shook her head, deadly serious. “No. He shifted. Right in front of me.”

There it was. The punchline. Delivered with full commitment. I let out a bark of a laugh. “Oh, girl. That’s rich. I mean, I knew y’all were freaky but—”

“I’m serious,” she said. No smile. No hint of the joke.

My own grin faltered. “Wait. You’re not kidding.”

“Nope.” She looked pale as a ghost but dead sure.

I stared at her. “So you’re saying your fiancé turns into a... woodland creature.”

“A fox,” she repeated, like that detail made this whole thing make sense. “And there’s more.”

My brain barely held onto the first part, and now she was handing me more like I was at a damn buffet line of crazy. “Oh, do go on.”

She glanced toward the porch. I could hear Knox’s voice outside, low and soothing as he talked to Emma. Totally normal. Not at all... shifty.

“Eliza... if this is your way of dealing with engagement anxiety, we can just drink wine and watch rom-coms like normal people.”

“I’m pregnant, Birdie.”

Silence.

“With... with a fox?”

“Well, I’ll be damned.”

Now, I’d been through my share of weird shit. My mama once dated a guy who thought Elvis was his reincarnated twin. I spent spring break in New Orleans with a tarot reader who swore I’d marry a man with two faces. But this?

This was a new tier of nuts.

Eliza sat there with her hands in her lap, eyes wide and shiny, like she expected me to either bolt or hug her.

And me? I didn’t know what to do with my hands. My words. My reality.

“I’m sorry,” I finally said. “But are you hearing yourself?”

“I knew you wouldn’t believe me,” she said softly.

“How am I supposed to believe you?” I hissed. “That Knox is some kind of... animal?”

She nodded slowly.

“And now you’re having his... litter? Eliza!” I whisper-shrieked, clutching my pearls, figuratively, since today’s look didn’t include any.

“Just one baby. Not a litter,” she added, trying to be helpful.

I blinked. “You have got to be joking. Tell me this is like, one of those bachelorette party games. Did someone put something in your drink?”

Eliza’s mouth pulled into a line. “He showed me. He changed.”

“Changed into what? A fox with a leather cut and a soft spot for bedtime stories?”

Her eyes narrowed. “You think I’d make this up?”

“Not normally. But also, not normally do you talk about people shapeshifting like it’s a thing that happens between brunch and baby showers.”

She exhaled through her nose, the way she used to when Emma colored on the walls.

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