Darling - K. Ancrum Page 0,29

she thinks that will help make things safer for me? She’s also started giving me survival tips, like … Eleanor. I think I walked into, like, a sting operation or something.”

Eleanor was just shaking her head back and forth. “No. No, no, nope. Not at all, none of this at all for you,” she said. “You need police. You need your parents. You need to contact the FBI or something, but this shit needs to end right now.”

“Don’t you think I know that?!” Wendy asked. “I wouldn’t be locked in a bathroom whispering at you if getting out of this situation was that fucking easy. I would already be sprinting home. Dude, and not only did Tinkerbelle start giving me a bunch of warnings, but she also saw that I was texting you and said that it was good and to turn on my location so someone can track where I am. This is so serious.”

Eleanor put her head in her hands and gripped tight as she thought frantically. “So,” she started, “there’s a commotion outside that’s distracting the cops from being able to effectively focus on you. You’re outnumbered by enough people who have already proven they can physically constrain you. Peter has proven to be unreliable and has a temper, and you’re trapped in his house in his neighborhood, so he knows the terrain better than you. Public transportation is out of the question, and I can’t send an Uber to pick you up if they keep moving you. Peter also knows where you live, so if you don’t figure out a way out of this situation, he could 100 percent just randomly show up at your house.”

Wendy looked at the bathroom door and at the time on her phone. It had been almost five minutes, her phone was dying, and if she didn’t want anyone to start looking for her, they needed to wrap this up. “Yes.”

“It’s only been, like, an hour. How does stuff like this even happen to you?” Eleanor groaned.

“I don’t know, but I do know this: Tinkerbelle said she was going to help get me out of here permanently, and I believe her. Also, even if I didn’t trust her, I trust that she doesn’t want me to fuck up her plans badly enough that she’d actually help me, even though we aren’t even friends. I swear to God, the instant I get a moment away, I’ll run. But I need you to start monitoring my location.”

“And regarding calling the authorities?” Eleanor asked, rubbing her temples in anguish.

“If you don’t hear from me, and something seems wrong, I’m giving you permission to share my location detail with them. But, I have to go, now; I’m running out of time,” Wendy said. She flushed the toilet and turned on the faucet.

“If you live, and we meet in person, I’m going to physically fight you for putting me through this,” Eleanor said, scowling.

Wendy nodded seriously. “If I live, I’ll let you. And just for the record, I want you to know you were right.”

Eleanor nodded and clenched her eyes shut tight. “I love you,” she said. “Please, please stay safe.”

“I know,” Wendy said. “I’ll try.”

She hung up and turned off the faucet. When she opened the door, Tootles was standing outside it.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” he said accusatorily. “Why were you in there talking?”

Wendy opened her mouth to concoct an explanation, but Tinkerbelle came up behind Tootles and pushed him aside so Wendy could get out.

“She was reciting poetry, Tootles. Darling’s an artist. Maybe if you’re good, she’ll do some for you later,” Tinkerbelle said, giving Wendy a warning glance.

“Oh! Okay!” Tootles instantly accepted that explanation and closed the bathroom door.

Tootles isn’t very bright, Wendy thought, but at least that’s convenient.

She followed Tinkerbelle back into the kitchen. The other boys were sitting at the massive table made of two doors, waiting for them. The table was crammed with homemade candles in a way that made it look like a beautiful fire hazard. Slightly had filled all the bowls with the soup she’d seen him making earlier, and to Wendy’s surprise, it smelled very good. In addition to the soup, there was a hunk of dried, smoked meat that Slightly was currently carving slivers of. There was also a giant, steaming loaf of bread that couldn’t have come anywhere but straight out of the oven. Wendy suddenly realized how hungry she was, having gone to bed without eating.

Peter was at the head of