“Please,” I said. “I don’t know what’s wrong, but you need to lie down.”
“Soon, Father. Soon I’ll have all the time in the world to rest.”
I stood there for a moment as Thomas and his friend helped Warrick up the stairs, and I had never felt more helpless in my life.
This wouldn’t do. I was Synclaire of Thorny Walk. I gave myself a shake and followed them up 43: Warrick
Thomas and his “friend” helped me to my room, and I sank into a chair. I felt their eyes on me.
I stared mutely down at my fingers, flexing them. I could almost see my nails elongate into claws and my hands turn to paws covered with fur, racing through the backroads toward my destiny.
I shuddered and buried my face in my hands.
“I wish you’d remove those outlandish clothes,” Father said.
I took off the waistcoat.
“And would someone mind explaining to me what, exactly, is going on?” he demanded irritably