The medallion must've left a little residual energy on me, you think. This is terrible; I'm turning into a fox! You very much don't want to be an animal, but having read a little on certain websites stumbled onto during searches for other stuff, you have a good idea what to expect; you close your eyes and huddle up, waiting for the inevitable moment when you're forced onto all fours.
It doesn't come. Minutes pass with no change, and you realize that the residual power must not be changing you as completely as the medallion itself would. Sitting back up, you take stock. You're still a four-year-old girl, unfortunately, but you're no longer human. Though you've retained your humanoid proportions and stance, you're body's covered in red fur, with white fur on the front of your torso and black markings on your ears, hands, and feet, and a white tip on your tail. Your hair has also become long and red. Your hands have only gained pads and exchanged fingernails for claws, but your feet have become paws completely, making you walk in a digitigrade stance. Your new tail is soft and bushy, extending about a foot from the base of your spine through a hole it's ripped in your panties. Your ears have moved to the top of your head and become thin an triangular, and your face has changed into something very close to a fox's muzxle, though much more flexible and expressive than that of a real fox. In short, you are a little anthropomorphic fox-girl.
No sooner have you finished your analysis than you hear voices. The rich woman is both indignant and frightened, strenuously protesting about a "monster." Frederich responds. "Pardon my insolence, Madam," he says steadily approaching, "but I don't give a damn what the poor child looks like; if she's in trouble I'm going to see to it that she's looked after until the authorities get here." He comes in sight of you and pauses, visibly startled, then remembers his statement and forces a smile.
Madam threatens his job several times, but he stays the course, picking you up and seating you on his lap as he waits for the police to arrive, surveying you curiously. Madam eventually gives up and backs away cautiously.
Before long, the police arrive. Baffled by your appearance, they make careful note of Madam's account. They ask you who your parents are, but your little girl self is in control and you can only blubber that you don't have any. "What's going to happen to her?" Frederich asks.
One officer shrugs. "Well, if we can't find out who her parents are, it's likely she'll be put in foster care or put up for adoption."
That's not what you want to hear; if that happens, you might neverget a chance to change back!