Heavy rain clouds grayed the sky. I stood outside the car for a bit, then cautiously walked to the house, trying to distinguish the different scents in the air as I went. Yes, one was definitely Rachel's. One other grew strong near the house, but it wasn't familiar to me.

The damn clouds had darkened and began to spittle, which was doing nothing to lighten my mood. But I had to go in and find out what the hell was going on.

At last, I reached the door. My hand felt heavy, but I turned the doorknob and pushed it open.

I didn't say anything as I came in. I spotted light and heard some voices coming from the living room, so I left my bag at the entrance and walked down the hall.

The scent of the new human grew even stronger. Frank, Cindy, Charlie, and Rachel were all there with the mysterious fifth person.

I paused just outside the living room, took a deep breath, and walked in.

My gaze was immediately drawn to the stranger. It was a middle-aged woman, and she sat on the love seat, talking to Cindy. I only had a moment to take in her scary, teased-too-high blonde hair, and then all at once everyone noticed I was there.

All eyes were on me and I felt more uncomfortable than I ever had.

"Riv," Charlie began. He started toward me, but stopped as the mysterious woman leapt up and bolted toward me.

"Donna!" she cried, throwing her arms around me.

Okay, that was one I hadn't heard before.

I didn't know who the woman was or why she felt our relationship had reached the point where she felt comfortable hugging me, but I didn't care. I pushed her away and warily took a few steps back.

"Who?" I pointed at her and looked to Charlie for an explanation.

"River," Rachel began calmly. I recognized that tone--it sounded like the one she used when I was first found and staying at the hospital. That was the tone which said, "River's crazy, so let's not upset her." Well, this time I definitely wasn't loony. I wasn't the one calling myself Donna; major hair spray lady was.

"Who!"

"Her name is Patricia Weiss," Rachel said in that same don't-do-anything-rash-and-violent voice. I hated that voice.

So I had her name, but that didn't tell me what she was doing there, or why she still seemed to want to hug me.

Patricia's eyes welled up and I feared that when those huge tears finally did fall, her thick layer of eyeliner would go with them. Then not only would she be covered in dark blue, but I worried the rest of us would be as well.

She started toward me again, so I promptly backed up and raised my fists up in defense. If she came near me one more time, I figured that would count as enough provocation to justify hitting her.

"Donna, it's me," Patricia said, as if that would mean something. She stared at me for a moment, then turned to Rachel. "What's wrong with her?"

Me! What the hell was wrong with her?

"When Riv...when Donna was found, four years ago--" Rachel began.

"River," I stated firmly. Whoever "Donna" was, she certainly wasn't me.

"She went through a lot of trauma," Rachel continued. "Aside from nearly drowning, we have no idea what else might have occurred. Whatever it was, she had no idea where she had been, or who she was."

What the hell? Of course I knew: I was a wolf. They just thought I was psychotic.

"Is it normal for amnesia to go on this long?" Patricia asked. "She has no memory of the eleven years before that?"

"Not Donna," I said. "River."

"She really has a poor grasp of English, doesn't she?" Patricia said sadly.

I glared at her. Although around most humans, I tended to use as few syllables as possible--in the smallest sentences I could manage--I was unimpressed with her assumption. She was the one having trouble understanding what I was saying.

"Leah must have taken her to Quebec after all," Patricia said to Rachel. She turned to me again. "Donna," she said very slowly. "I'm," she pointed to herself, "your," she pointed at me, "Aunt Patty."

"No," I growled. "Not Donna."

"Don--"

"Not Donna!"

"River, apparently your name is Donna Meyers," Rachel explained. "I'm sure if you just give Patty a chance to explain--;"

"No!" Christ, how many times was I expected to repeat myself?"

"My French is terrible, but I guess I could try," Patricia said. "Je m'appelle--"

"River doesn't speak French," Charlie interrupted. "She was exempted from the class."

"What is going on?" I directed my question at everyone but Patricia.

"This woman is your Aunt Patty," Cindy said. "She's here to...to..." Her eyes filled with tears and Frank walked over and put his arm around her shoulders.

"She's taking you home with her," Frank finished for Cindy.

"What?" I finally managed to force from my throat. First of all, I didn't have a human aunt--it was impossible. Second...well, a second point wasn't necessary, because I didn't have any human relatives.