I didn't sleep. I were caught between moments of sobbing and feeling like my life were over, and moments of hearing Ma scolding me in my head with "You aren't dying, stop it right now!" I just can't bear the thought of losing my own leg. But if it's going to happen, what choice do I have, but to bear it? I'm so tired, I can't think straight, I don't know what to do with myself. Pumpkin kept me company all night. She usually sleeps with Master Tumunir but I guess she could tell I needed to not be alone. I'm dreading saying anything to him or to Master Maurr.
Of course, the first order of business is to find someone who knows enough about these things to say for sure what I should do. Or if there's anything I can do. Mister Dimheim were kind enough to take a look at it, even asking if he could cut into my leg with a knife a bit to see more. I were terrified about that, but it were only a little prick in the end. I'm not sure what he saw or didn't see, but he said it were bad and he couldn't help me with it. He wouldn't even look at me. I don't know why, but I've always felt like he knew everything about everything when it comes to sickness and bodies and the like. He were more cold than usual. That, on top of the terrible things he were telling me about what might happen to my leg, just made me fall apart inside.
I keep thinking about Missus Holbrook. I don't want to give up my place here. Even if there's nothing can be done about my leg, if it gets worse, what good will I be to anyone? My life were just starting to become something good and bright, something I could be proud of.
I don't know if anyone noticed anything at Miss Mack's party. I stayed sitting most of the night. Miss Gail were there, and I were happy to see her. She's a pleasing and sweet person! Lots of other folk, too, but I don't feel much like going on about it. My heart's just not in it.
Mister Aeru were right. Well, partly right. I think he were wrong about a few things, too.
Mister Dimheim said I should talk to Miss Cesistya, the elf-lady what sits in the Prancing Pony. I'm afraid of elves, if I'm to be quite honest. Pa said they had witch-magic about them, and they never die. I suppose it won't hurt just to go and talk to her and see what she might have to say. But I have a peculiar feeling in my gut, like a stone, all heavy and cold.
I think I were maybe hasty to trust so blindly.
