It was the dead of night. I was five months pregnant. I woke up. Frantic. Heart racing. Blood pumping. I was sweating. I grabbed my husband and screamed “there’s a wolf in the house!” He bolted upright in bed. Confused, scratching his head, “What?”
“A wolf. I can hear it running through the house downstairs, it’s coming up for the baby. Go, go stop it.”
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