“No,” he let out in a low voice, pushing his glasses up as he pulled the skirt out with his hands, seeing his fingers grow hairy by the second until his entire hand shifted into his werewolf form. “This belongs to the girl that died,” he said as I stepped back. “I can smell it. I remember from that morning when I was talking with the police…they had it blocked off on the side of the house. You remember? This is her stuff.”
NOT THE UNCLE!!!! Did not suspect him
