Nim lay on her bed, wondering what she was going to do. She had a lot of problems on her hands:
Her wounds hurt like hell.
When Colin had told her that Arlington was going to turn into a crazed dog-demon, she had been pretty mean to him and probably severed any possible connections they could have made.
Contrary to what she had hoped, Arlington really was a crazed dog-demon. Who was soothed by music. Go figure.
Dr. Haringer was freaking her out. He never asked her any questions; not once had he checked on her progress with Arlington. He hadn't even batted an eye when he had come home to a house spattered in blood. Was this normal for him?
Nim shuddered at that possibility.
And last, but certainly not least among her problems, was the fact that she was
just now noticing all of this. Was there something astronomically wrong with her? How in the world had she managed to take everything in without a second thought? How had she managed to come to the conclusion that there was nothing wrong with the situation she was in?
And what was she going to do about this curse?
She had thought about calling Lane, but then decided that just because he had been fine talking about a mute kid regaining his ability to speak, didn't mean he'd be fine talking about said kid turning into a scary creature that was not supposed to exist.
And she couldn't talk to Arlington because things had been pretty awkward between them lately. He wouldn't talk to her, mostly remaining in his room, and she didn't have a problem with that at the moment. Until she knew what to do with him, she didn't feel like looking into those big dark eyes.
She even contemplated talking to Dr. Haringer, but that thought only lasted for about half a millisecond. The Dr. was way too weird for her to consider letting him on something like this, and she had a bad feeling that he knew something about this.
The only person left was Colin.