Darling - K. Ancrum Page 0,28

to nip that idea in the bud before it occurred to you, too.”

“Okay,” Wendy said. “I’m uh … just gonna go. Thanks for the hair and makeup.”

Tinkerbelle nodded and turned to work on her own makeup.

“And thanks for the advice,” Wendy added.

Tinkerbelle rubbed at her eyeliner with a makeup remover wipe. “I like you, Wendy,” she said bluntly.

Wendy had been halfway out the door, but she stopped and looked back.

“You’re sharp and you don’t let people push you around,” Tinkerbelle continued. “I respect that. I just wanted you to know that I wouldn’t put this effort in if I didn’t think a girl like you deserved it.”

Wendy didn’t know what to say to that. She’d been bottling her emotions about the events of the past hour, and there had been so many of them that she couldn’t process, so she just felt numb in the face of genuine kindness.

Tinkerbelle was lining her eyes with red eyeshadow, but when she realized Wendy was still standing there limply, she looked over her shoulder in irritation. “Go wash your hands. Peter is waiting.”

Wendy backed out of the room.

The bathroom was right where Tinkerbelle said it was, and Wendy was quite frankly very surprised at its cleanliness considering how many boys there were in this house. She locked the door and shoved a towel at the bottom to help muffle any sound. Then she immediately video chatted Eleanor. It only rang once before her friend picked up.

“WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON AND WHY DO YOU LOOK LIKE THAT?” Eleanor screeched.

Wendy jumped and turned the volume all the way down. “Please be quieter,” she hissed.

“You look so scary right now, you have no fucking idea,” Eleanor whispered.

Wendy laughed in mild hysteria and tried to keep from weeping. “I’m terrified and I don’t have much time, so I need you to be quiet while I explain what’s going on.”

Eleanor nodded.

“So, I was about to talk to that cop when some people literally black-bagged me with a T-shirt and abducted me straight off the street. When they finally stopped dragging me around, they took the T-shirt off my head, and it was a bunch of teenage boys,” Wendy said quickly.

What? Eleanor mouthed, her eyebrows knit in concern.

“Yeah-boi, and it’s about to get worse!” Wendy whisper-screamed. “So, they immediately start arguing with each other about whose fault it was that they had to kidnap me, when Peter bursts into the room. He instantly gets really mad and instead of asking questions or whatever, he immediately starts apologizing and saying that it was a miscommunication?”

“Oh my God, Wendy…,” Eleanor says softly.

“Then he hugs me really hard and says sorry to me or whatever—like that would even help. Then he tells me that all the guys who kidnapped me are his family and that he lives in this house with them. He explained that he told them to find me and help walk me there after we got separated at the train station. But apparently they decided to kidnap me instead?”

“I am calling the cops,” Eleanor said flatly.

“NO!” Wendy lowered her voice immediately. “No. Let me finish. So, after I get individually introduced to these kids—and by the way, one of them can’t be any older than maybe seven—I get told that Peter provides for them, and they’re basically all orphans or something? And Peter rehashes the story of how we met and, like, it’s very clear that these really are just kids in a really bad situation. No—I see the look on your face, don’t hang up and call the cops, Eleanor.”

Wendy paused and breathed.

“So, one of the kids was making dinner—which, by the way, I am in the bathroom because I’m supposed to be washing my hands for it, and Peter was like, Oh, we’re still going to the party. Go to Tinkerbelle’s room and change clothes so you can look cooler or something.”

“I will kill this man,” Eleanor said.

“Then,” Wendy continued, “here is the wildest fucking part! So you know how I told you that Tinkerbelle was kind of a bitch? APPARENTLY, she was only being like that to try to get me not to come to the party because something really dramatic is going to happen tonight!”

“What could be more dramatic than this?” Eleanor hissed.

“Dude! I don’t know! That’s high-key the craziest part!” Wendy said hysterically. “Anyway, she’s like, You can’t leave or you’ll ruin everything. I’m gonna help you. And she was so fucking serious about it. She did my makeup and hair because