CHAPTER THIRTY

My wounds have healed, but I’m still covered in bruises and blood.

And yet, I don’t care.

Director Yearwood isn’t here yet. I’ve been waiting in her office, ushered here by Dr. Brown who looks anxious.

I don’t speak, my head spinning.

She offers me tea, but I don’t want to eat or drink. I want to see Beth and make sure she is okay. I want to know what is going on. What am I? What is Beth?

What was all that back there?

For the first time, there is no fog inside of me, no fuzzy memory. I recall the way my body felt, my teeth elongated, my strength.

I remember it all.

I would think that I’m dreaming, but my body hurts too bad from being tossed around like a rag doll.

“Taylor—”

I cut off Dr. Brown, my voice hard, “I want to see the director. She told me she would talk to me.”

“I did,” comes a calm voice just as the door to the office opens.

I’m on my feet as Director Yearwood approaches me. She grabs my chin gently, raising my

face, and studying it. Finally, she murmurs, “