The North American grizzly bear. One thousand pounds of pure, brute strength. They can clock in at 40 miles per hour. That's how fast your parents drive in a residential area, if they're speeding.

That means over 8000 Newton-seconds of momentum was piling toward the Hork-Bajir, trapped between two large storage containers, just waiting for my attack.

He bared his blades. Tried to look threatening. The bear could see past that. The bear could see the fear, the surrender in his eyes. The bear knew that he'd won.

And it made me laugh.

I hated this. Hated it. The past four months of my life had been horrible, and even though I knew why, I wasn't willing to put it to words. I hated Mom driving me to my dad's temporary apartment in the thick of rush hour, while Jordan complained about missing her favorite TV show and Sara babbled on about some boy knocking over her block tower in Kindergarten. I hated ramen noodles for dinner as my dad perpetually unpacked. I hated half-hearted attempts at comfort. "Things will be back to normal soon." "We'll never stop loving you."

Yeah, right.

"You girls almost ready?" My mom asked. She'd made us dress up, like for church. That meant we were going to court.

The judge had granted her temporary full custody. We still lived with her, in our house. She told us that she realized how important a paternal influence was in our lives, whatever that means, but we still got to see our dad a couple of times a week. If we were lucky. She said she knew it was important, but it was clear how much she hated doing it.

We were going to see him today. But we weren't going to his apartment.

"I hate wearing tights," Sara whined, scratching her underwear under her skirt, trying to pull them down. My mom walked over and adjusted them on her too forcefully. Sara whined in discomfort. Jordan was brushing her doll's hair.

"Just keep them on for now, Sara. We'll be home soon."

"How long is this going to take?" I asked.

"I don't know, Rachel, a couple of hours."

"And this is the last time we have to see Judge Walters and that gross lawyer that smells like dirty socks?"

"Yes, Rachel. This is the last time."

I can't really describe the feeling of ripping into living flesh. The way the muscles seize up around your claws, the way blood washes through your fur, the way it smells. It's total, complete satisfaction. Better than popping all your knuckles at once. Better than a good cry. Better than a sneeze, a yawn, a cough, and a fart combined. Better than all of those things. Life is the tensest thing of all. Releasing that tension is just pure bliss.

The Hork-Bajir yowled in pain. I heard a snap as we collided with the cold, jagged rock wall. It had come from somewhere along his spine. Low enough for him to keep fighting? I hoped so. I hated when they just went heavy and limp. Much better if they put up a little fight.

"So you've attended all of your parenting classes. That's good to see," Judge Walters said, in her high, nasally, condescending voice. She adjusted her narrow-rimmed glasses. I glanced at my father. He was sitting on the other side of the table. He looked nervous.

"Yes, your honor. The instructor even put a note in my file, I asked for extra—"

"Yes, I see it. Above and beyond the call of duty. Such a wonderful thing to do after the fact."

My dad scowled a little bit. His lawyer put a hand on his arm, and my dad sat back, covering his face with his hand.

Jordan was still combing her doll's hair, but her hands were shaking. Sara was asleep. Chubby little cheeks, still like a baby, hung down below her lips. She was wearing a princess dress with fairy wings.

"You have completed all of your required coursework, paperwork. Let's take a moment to review why we're here."

The judge liked those kinds of phrases a lot. "Why we're here." "What we've learned." "How we can improve." Every time she said it, it made me hate her a little bit more. I was smart enough, old enough to know that none of this was her fault. But it was better to hate her than to hate either of my parents.

"We're here because Dan couldn't keep his hands off of Little Miss Intern—"

"Naomi, not in front of the kids."

It was like someone had just turned the volume up on a TV in the next room. Tension cracked through the air like invisible lightning. My mother's lips were pursed. My father's eyes were misty and apologetic. For a moment, I thought I understood everything.

Then it was gone.

"Now, now," Judge Walters said. "We're here because I want to decide how to split up the custody of the children. Naomi has been granted temporary full custody, but it is clear that you, Dan, have a great desire to be a part of your children's lives. However, your amount of attention and commitment from before this mess seems to indicate you're more removed from their lives than you'd like me to think. Therefore, I believe I need a more direct testimony."

Judge Walter's eyes turned to us. She pulled her glasses to the tip of her nose and stared at us from over the rims.

"You want the kids to testify?"

His eyes were now completely given to fear. I didn't know if I was looking at the Yeerk or the Hork-Bajir. I didn't care. Whatever he was, he was going to die.

A rancid smell. A wet feeling under my back paws. The Hork-Bajir had peed himself. I didn't even know that was a Hork-Bajir reflex. I smiled, in my bear way.

(So I guess you're scared of death too, then,) I said to him as I thrust my open mouth around his fragile, pulsing jugular.

"This is ridiculous," my dad scoffed. "They're just kids. Sara's only four, Jordan's eight. Rachel's only ten for Christ's sake!"

"Just because they are children does not mean they have no opinions on the matter," Judge Walters said, in a slow way, like she was wise or something. My eyes wouldn't close.

"Sara, do you want to stay with your father?"

Sara was still asleep. I wasn't even sure if Judge Walters had noticed.

"Jordan, what about you?"

Jordan had gone pale and stiff. She clutched her doll tightly across her chest, and looked up at me. I reached my hand between our chairs. Jordan reached down and held it hard.

"I…" I began.

"Yes, Rachel?"

"I think I should…speak for them," I mumbled.

"Perhaps this is a good decision. The younger siblings often look up to the older ones. You, perhaps even more than your parents, have your sisters' best interest at heart."

I gulped. I didn't quite know what she meant. Would all of this be my fault if I chose wrong?

Oh, the pulse of blood in my mouth. Oh, the taste of it, the speed with which it abandoned his body, slipping through the corners of my mouth and off my chin in gross rivulets. This was not prey the bear normally hunted. It did not relieve any hunger, it did not satisfy any taste in my palette. It released something else. A wonderful feeling of power, of control. This Hork-Bajir's life was in between my jaws. And I would crunch it out of existence.

I did. A jaw with strength enough to break through a caribou's antlers crunched right through the neck. Shards of wet, warm bone poked up through the skin. Scraped my gums. The Hork-Bajir twitched a few times beneath me, but he was gone.

I heard a roar. That would be Jake. He needed my help. I took a moment, no longer than a second, to relish in my kill. Then I thrashed my head to one side for good measure, turned around, and targeted my next victim.

"Does your father treat you well, Rachel?"

"Yes. Of course. My father is very…" I stopped, gulping. I never referred to him as "father." I hated having to sound so formal in front of this person. Your honor. There was nothing honorable about what she was doing. Tearing a family apart.

"What do you normally eat for dinner at your father's, Rachel?"

I looked up at my dad. He was gazing at me strangely, like he was trying to compel me to do something. I got the feeling he didn't want me to be honest.

"Um, waffles, some nights. Lean Cuisine. Ramen noodles."

"He makes these things from scratch?"

My father's eyebrows went up.

"No, from the freezer."

"I see."

I didn't know why the things we ate mattered. The judge wrote something in her notebook.

"What sorts of things do you do when you're together?"

"We'll watch TV. Play board games. I don't know."

"Does he ever take you out for fresh air and exercise?"

I was getting confused. Why was she asking these questions? What did this have to do with anything?

I must have waited too long, because the judge said, again, "I see."

"No, he took us out to fly a kite, we go out— "

"And, Rachel, does your father help you with your homework?"

I stared at her. Now I knew why he wanted me to lie.

"He reads the news on weeknights," I said. "He's not home during evenings."

"I see."

Bears are nearsighted. I think this makes fighting more fun.

A Taxxon intersected me with a wicked "SREEEEE!!!!!" Plowed through him like he was a wet paper bag full of warm oatmeal. Half a dozen other Taxxons descended on us, most focusing on their mutilated brother, one reaching out his long, frog tongue on the bits of Taxxon stuck to my fur. I wound up my paw like a bow and plastered him across the face. A big, messy, jell-o chunk of eyes flew a few feet away. Ax was standing behind me. He stared at me for a moment before continuing to fight.

(All right, everyone, get towards an exit! Move! Now!)

That was Jake. He'd decided that we'd had enough. I wasn't so sure.

A vague, blurry outline of something, at the exit that led up to the movie theater. A group of more Hork-Bajir. Perfect.

We had to wait outside for some time, while the judge decided. Jordan was crying, and Mom was comforting her. Sara was still asleep. I was kind of jealous. How could she sleep at a time like this?

I was standing against the wall, chewing on a fingernail. My dad came over to talk to me.

"I didn't do good," I said to him.

"You did fine."

"No. She's going to take you away from us."

"Rachel, whatever happens, it's not your fault, okay?"

I shook my head. My dad wrapped his arms around me. I started to cry.

"It's not your fault."

I lumbered. Some Taxxons, Hork-Bajir, whatever, tried to intersect. I was too big, moving too surely. A few shot at me with Dracon Beams. A couple hit. It didn't matter, it only added to the thrill.

I picked up speed to the sounds of humans screams, Hork-Bajir growls, Taxxon shrieks. Visser Three laughed in my head.

We all sat across from each other, in the same seats. The judge sat at the head of the conference table. She tapped a stack of papers together on the desk, taking too long. Jordan was holding my hand again. Sara wasn't asleep anymore.

"Divorce is never a fun thing, is it, kids?" Judge Walters began, using that awful condescension again. Jordan started to cry. "No, it's never fun to think that this is your fault, that you were too much of a burden to keep your parents together. But that is never the case."

She kept talking, probably refuting her first statement, but I couldn't listen to her anymore. That one phrase echoed in my mind.

Your fault. This is all your fault.

"After careful consideration, I have decided to award full custodianship to Naomi. Dan, you will retain weekend privileges for two hours every Sunday. You will also have the children every other weekend. Congratulations, Naomi."

I was shocked. I looked at my mom. A horrible look of victory came across her face. It wasn't like winning a softball game. It was a vindictive sneer. It didn't even look like her. Then I looked at my dad.

He was crushed.

Your fault. This is all your fault.

I was getting close, now. I could smell the group. That should have been enough of a clue. But I ignored the familiar scent. I kept clambering, listening to my claws scrape against the rock floor, flitflitflit, flitflitflit.

(Rachel, what are you doing?) It was Tobias. His hawk eyes were much sharper than mine. I should have noted the urgent tone of his voice. I should have trusted him. But I was too far gone.

I kept running. Still picking up speed. Twenty-five miles per hour. Twenty-eight. Thirty. Nothing could stop me. I was a force of nature. No rule, no law. No judge.

(Rachel, stop! Turn left, don't keep going straight!)

(They're going to die,) I huffed, in a voice that belonged more to the bear than to me.

(They're human!)

He was right. And it was too late.

A few of them scrambled out of the way. But they were why the Visser was laughing. He cherished death just as much as I did. Watching as I barreled through four unarmed humans amused him. I heard their muffled sobs and shrieks as I crunched through their toothpick skeletons. I was going too fast to stop suddenly. I crushed one of them beneath my massive, heavy paw. I felt his ribs crack like dried bread. I felt the wash of blood on my paw. I felt the rush of life leave him.

I killed him. I killed three, maybe four of them. That was almost worse. Knowing I killed three was bad, but wondering if I killed four was terrible.

We made it out alive. Barely. As always. We demorphed on the stairs and kept running. There was no time to grieve them, to second guess. Only time to escape.

I lived with my mom. My dad moved away. I didn't see him too much for the next few years. I guess that's okay. I don't feel too bad about it, anymore. How could I have known that the judge was going to twist what I said? Or maybe what I said didn't matter at all. I learned later that Judge Walters really liked my mom. They met for drinks sometimes after work. My dad's lawyer tried to claim mistrial on account of "conflict of interest," but I don't know. I don't get most of that law stuff.

After the battle, we met for our usual "that was insane," "let's never do that again" recap. This one felt a little bit different. I could feel everyone stealing glances at me. Ax kept staring at me with a stalk eye. I guess he assumed I didn't notice.

I did.

Afterward, Tobias walked me home. Well, he flew, and I walked. I walked in bare feet over a couple miles of asphalt. I'd be lying if I said it wasn't uncomfortable. I would also be lying if I said that I minded.

(You kind of scared me today,) he said.

I shrugged. I couldn't really talk to him. He was flying up too high.

(You didn't see them, right? You didn't realize until it was too late?)

I wanted to nod. But somehow that felt like a lie. So I just shrugged again.

(Rachel, I…I don't want to see you get hurt. You get so reckless when we're down there, and it scares me so much. I'm just so afraid something is going to happen to you. You lose control. You forget who you are. What you're doing. Why you're doing it. I wouldn't be able to live without you. You know that, right?)

I stopped. Held my hand over my eyes like a visor. The sun was just setting. He swooped back around, coming down for a slow, lazy landing.

"I know, Tobias," I said, when I was sure he was close enough to hear.

I waited for a while. I watched as his feathers melted like shredded wax, as a soft, sad human face emerged from the hard hawk one. I watched as his wings stiffened into arms and fingers. As he grew tall and erect.

I waited until his matted, blonde hair covered his eyes. Until that human expression of fear and love and heartache finally emerged.

Then I stepped over to him, across the short grass I had cut through, and kissed him.

I was angry a lot of the time. I was mad because the love I had for my parents had been splintered a long time ago. And now that damaged love could only be reciprocated by another just as damaged. His heart could understand mine, and mine could understand his. So we stood for a while as the red disk dipped beneath the horizon, girl and boy, or hawk, or whatever, and kissed, knowing that it was impermanent, knowing that soon the kiss would have to break.

But for now, two splintered halves were whole.