When Duncan Raiford woke up, he expected it to be a normal day.

He expected to stretch, as usual, and run his fingers messily through his hair. Of course, it would remain perfect no matter what he did to it.

He expected to get up slowly, yawning, and gaze approvingly at his reflection in the floor-to-ceiling mirror.

He expected to leisurely stroll downstairs to the dining room, where the chef would have a vast array of breakfast dishes ready upon Duncan's command. After breakfast, he'd go to school, where the girls would fawn over him and the boys—who weren't also fawning over him—would shake their heads in jealousy and disbelief.

What could he say? Being the son of a wealthy business power couple had its plethora of perks.

However, he didn't expect his arms to refuse to stretch the way they used to. Or, for that matter, for them to be green.

He didn't expect himself to shoot out of bed with a terrified croak and land crouching on his hands and feet.

He certainly didn't expect to see a frog staring back in the mirror.

His pulse raced and he felt a peculiar tingle in his throat. With shock and disgust, he realized his throat had expanded into a large bubble, and deflated it immediately. Doing so, however, led to a loud croak which startled himself and someone passing by outside the room, if the gasp he heard outside was any indication.

Duncan heard footsteps. Then the door was flung open and the house maid was shrieking at the top of her lungs.

"Oh! There's a frog in the spare room!"

Duncan attempted to protect his ears from the shrill noise, but only succeeded in splaying his arms out across the wooden floor. Wooden? He thought, confused. His room was carpeted. He didn't have a wooden floor. And did she say "spare room"?

Before he could think of anything else, instinct took over, and he hopped out of the way just as a duster struck the floor where he had been. Mouth agape, Duncan watched the maid grit her teeth and raise the silver duster to try again.

"Wait! It's me, Duncan Raiford," he tried to say, but all that came out was a garbled ribbit-ribbit-croak.

Needless to say, the maid did not buy his argument, and swung down. Duncan dodged the blow and hopped around her and out through the doorway.

The maid cried out and gave chase, but Duncan knew the layout of the mansion better than she and lost her quite easily.

Where do I go now? He thought desperately. What do I do to turn back human? I can't stay like this forever, can I?

Fortunately, Duncan didn't have to think much to find an answer. From deep inside him, a name that he had never said before bubbled up to the surface of his mind.

Rowan Hanley.

A mental picture of a one-story house appeared. Duncan had never been there before. He didn't even know who Rowan was. But he instinctively knew he had to go to her.

Something told him he'd find answers with her.

He leaped out an open window near the front entrance and landed in a bed of tulips. He quickly recovered, looked back at his mansion for a long second, and then hopped away.

Rowan. I've got to find Rowan. Then I'll be fixed, and everything will go back to the way it was—the way it should be.