Page 178 of Beau and the Beast

“Everyone does!” Daphne cut in. “I mean, the whole world changed. Did you ever think when you were writingWolf & Ithat other non-human people like Wolfram would come forward like they did?”

“Never,” Beau said. “When I was working on the manuscript, we had no idea that there were other people like Wolfram out there. After being persecuted for centuries, NHPs had gotten so incredibly good at hiding that none of us knew they were even out there.”

“Ok, but IswearI saw a merman when I was five years old,” Marco cut in.

“You probably did,” Beau said. “I think a lot of people realized that experiences they thought were dreams or misunderstandings were actually contact with a non-human person.”

“So it was seriously never your intention to pave the way for other monsters to come out and be in society?” Daphne asked.

Violet frowned.Keep it cool, Beau.

“Not at all Daphne. The book was only supposed to show people that Wolfram was a person, just like anyone else,” he said. “And also, a little housekeeping. The m-word is really frowned upon if you’re not a non-human person.”

“Oh, I had no idea,” Daphne said. “I’m sorry.”

“Everyone is still learning,” Beau said. “There are some NHPs who use the term because they want to reclaim it—but from a human perspective, whenweuse the m-word it’s still a slur.”

“I understand.”

Violet breathed a sigh of relief. Beau was getting better and better about being diplomatic when people slipped up around him, but there had been a few pretty rocky interviews where he’d gotten furious about the hosts’ use of the termmonster.

He’d fought hard for humans to start using the termnon-human peopleinstead ofmonster, and for the most part it had stuck. Still, navigating the new vocabulary wasn’t a perfect science for most.

“I for one am just so excited to have you here in person,” Marco said. “Do you think we’ll ever manage to get Wolfram to be a guest?”

Beau smiled. “I’m still working on that. We’ll see. He’s a very private man.”

“That’s so funny,” Daphne said, “because from reading your book, I really feel like Iknowhim. I feel like he’s my friend or something. You did such an incredible job of capturing this person and making me understand him and where he came from—and all the struggles he faced as an NHP.”

“Thank you.”

Daphne held out a paperback copy of the book with a sticky note tucked in toward the front.

“Would you read us a quick excerpt from the book, for those who haven’t read it yet?”

“Uh, whohasn’tread this book?” Marco asked. “You’d have to be living under a rock to have missed it.”

“Ignore him,” Daphne said, reaching across Beau to tap Marco on the wrist. “Please, go ahead Beau.”

Beau opened the book to the place she’d marked and began to read.

“The moment I met Isidore Wolfram, Jr., I knew my life was never going to be the same.

“From that point forward, everything I experienced would be divided into discrete segments of time: before Wolf and after.

“I suppose people say that all the time about things that happen in their lives. They define their timeline with big events like meeting their spouses—or sometimes with tragedies like losing a child, experiencing a life-altering car accident.

“I had already had one of those moments—the death of my parents when I was nine—and I refused to let it define my life. I sutured up the time on either side of that event, determined not to let it cleave my life in two.

“But the same couldn’t be said about the day that I met Wolf. Unafraid, I let that day define me.

“Whether or not Wolfram felt the same remains to be seen. Will his life be defined by the moment he was cursed? Or will it be marked irrevocably instead by the day that he met a journalist willing to believe in the impossible and ready to tell his story?”

With a smile, he closed the book. The audience and hosts clapped, and when their applause died down, Daphne looked up to the people behind the audience in the control room.

“Guys, can you put up a shot of Wolfram?”

After a moment, the tv changed to display an image of Wolfram. It was a picture they’d had taken a month after the book went viral—a studio shot. Wolfram had been groomed intensely for the shot, all of his fur and his mane trimmed, smooth, and shining. His horns were polished to such a high shine they looked like they’d been lacquered. Violet and Beau had found a tailor to make him a full suit and the tasteful charcoal jacket emphasized his wide shoulders and trim waist. His golden eyes and serious look were arresting.

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