Wish
“—and you woke up in the infirmary.”
I suddenly turn to face her. “Veronica was also in the infirmary, and she had the same scar on her head as the wolf.”
My voice is oddly calm, and Dr. Brown sips her tea, thoughtfully. “Something about that upset you. Do you want to tell me?”
“Why?” I ask, bitterly. “So that you can lock me up in the loony bin?”
“Or maybe,” she counters, softly, “I can put your tensions at ease and tell you that you’re not imagining things.”