Ch. 8

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I wake up a few hours later, my throat feeling like it just got hit by a truck. I look around to see a girl by my bed. She's got dark brown hair that goes to Powder Pink.

"Hey Doc! She's up!" She yells through the door and a lady walks in. This pack has a lot of Females apparently. A man, no, a boy follows in behind her. He cant be much older than me, but his aura around him screams 'respect' and 'power'.

He quickly looks at me then to the doctor. The weird thing is though, he looks at her like he's wating for instruction. Like a child with it's mother. The doctor walks over and carefully examines my throat.

"Okay, good news, and a question. So, question first, do you like to talk or do anything using your throat a lot?" The doctor asks kindly.

Besides, ya know, breathing?

The thought bounces through my head as I shake my head yes. I like singing.

"Well, then good news and bad news, then good news again." She says and I tilt my head a little, trying to figure out what she means. I see the boy chuckle and shake his head.

"Not too bright, are you?" He says and the doctor gives him a look.

"Sorry Mom.." He apologizes and she turns her attention back to me. So, that's their connection. No wonder I felt this weird bond between them.

"So sweetie, Good news is, you will be able to speak again. Bad news, you can't do it for a year, but once thats done, you won't have to worry about it for the rest of your life." She says and smiles at me.

"Unless, ya know, you get it cut up like you did again." Sym states sarcastically, walking in and the doctor sends her a look. Like, not the 'Shush child' look, but more like the 'Get out' Look. Sym sends a glare back that lasts for a few seconds before turning her attention to me. Okaaaay, so they don't like eachother.

"Trinidee! You were supposed to text me when she wakes up!" Sym says walking behind the girl- who I now assume is Trinidee.

"Sorry girl. I left my phone in my room." Trinidee replies. Symali walks up to me and hands me a whiteboard and marker that I didn't see before.

'Thanks' I write and she nods. I erase the board.

"So, Dove, any questions?" The doctor asks and many, many questions bounce around in the small space I call my head. I ask the main one.

'Do I live here now?'

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