Nails only dared to let her eyes flicker open once the person was gone. She supposed that they must have been sent to her room to make sure she hadn't died in her sleep, as sedated people sometimes do. She was lucky - or unlucky, depending on one might view it - to have been born healthy, otherwise her treatment in this place may have crushed her before she was even old enough to feel its weight. Still, she bore several trademarks of Remmington's abuse. Dark bruises often marred her skin, especially under her eyes and along her jaw, and tonight her lip was bleeding.

Nails winced as she adjusted her position on the bed. One of the staff had jammed his knee under her shoulder in the process of pinning her down during one of her "episodes", and it was apparently still sore. Despite all of her physical problems, however, Nails' head felt remarkably clear at the moment. Wishing for time to write, she mentally cursed curfew and tried to get some real rest.