I’m still holding my hair when I turn to him and ask, “Can hair grow like this overnight?”
He rests his forefinger over his lips. “No, not usually. The length of your hair typically represents about a year or two of growth.” Reaching behind my back, I find that my hair hangs to my waist. “As shifters, our hair does grow rather fast. In the pastsix months, if I had to guess, your hair grew about four inches. Of course, if you slept regularly, it probably would have grown a bit more.”
My hair isn’t the only thing that changed. The wounds on my body closed. The scars don’t look fresh anymore. I no longer have a straight boyish figure. My breasts grew a whole cup size, at least. I am even taller, now hitting the five feet marker, and my feet are also a size bigger. My body is toned and muscular, like I work out or train regularly. I can see without glasses, and my voice, once I have drunk enough water, no longer resembles a teenage boy’s hormonal rasp. There is some rasp to it, don’t get me wrong; it isn’t perfect, but it is clear. When I speak, I no longer struggle to be heard.
The best part of all the bodily changes are my teeth. The braces are gone. I have a mouth full of healthy, white, straight teeth. Mentally, I feel different, too.
After rushing into my room, my parents, Anders, and Dr. York sit, bewildered at my transformation. Anders explains that I was missing for five days. I can’t believe it.
Chris arrives and questions me. Over and over, he asks if I was hurt or if I saw the man who took me, assuming it was a man. Was there more than one man? Did they touch me? How did I escape? Where did they take me? The questions repeat, on and on.
But I have nothing to share. My last memory is leaving the dinner party. I knew Dr. York stayed at the clinic late on Fridays to finish his charts. I planned to catch him before he left to stitch the wound on my stomach. Even though it was dark, I had walked from the mansion and training grounds to meet Anders every morning so I memorized the path. I wasn’t worried that I couldn’t see well at night.
“Jessica,” Anders mutters my name. “Talk to us. What’s going on in that head of yours.”
I frown. “You don’t believe me? Why? You can hear my thoughts. You would know if I was hiding something.”
My mother shakes her head. “We haven’t been able to hear your thoughts.” Chris nods in agreement.
I look to Anders. “I kind of miss knowing what you’re thinking,” he says with a sad smile.
“I’m so confused right now. I keep replaying everything that happened yesterday in my head. None of this makes sense,” I huff. “Now, I’m broken.” I rub my forehead.
“Not broken. Maybe you need time to process everything,” Dr. York suggests.
I nod as a thought sprouts in my mind, like I forgot to do something important.
“Can I visit Alpha Agnus’s place?” I ask. “I just… feel like I need to see her. Maybe a few cracks with her cane will put things into better perspective,” I joke.
Visiting Alpha Agnus helps me sort through my feelings and hone some of the magic I thought I no longer possessed. She says that my mind matured during my absence, and now I have better control of it. This is why no one can hear my thoughts anymore, unless I allow it.
By the time Xavier picks me up early Friday morning, I feel better and look forward to returning home.
“I was told you were scheduled to take the academy exam this morning with the rest of the recruits.”
“Right! I guess I forgot.” I wince. Will memory loss be my new thing? Great. Now I have holes in my head.
“Don’t worry about your bags. I will take care of them when I return to the mansion,” he comments, opening my door.
“Thank you, Xavier.” I hug him.
“My pleasure. It’s good to have you back, Little One.” He squeezes my arms before letting me go.
Ean waits by the doors and smiles when he sees me. “You ready?” he asks.
I wrinkle my nose. “I forgot to study.”
He pats my back. “I’m sure you will do just fine.” He knocks on the classroom door and playfully pushes me inside.
“If you’re looking for the head guard’s office, it’s farther down the hall,” Professor Hocson instructs in his English accent, peering at me with his dark beady eyes. He’s an eagle shifter. I remember that.
“I’m here to take the exam, Professor.”
“You what?” he asks sharply.
I remove the hood covering my head. “I’m Jessica Langhlam. We agreed I would take the exam with the rest of the recruits.”
He stands quickly from the seat behind his desk. “Oh, goodness, Princess. My apologies. I didn’t recognize you.” He motions to an empty chair.
