Darling - K. Ancrum Page 0,63

Charles and Minsu if the police had gotten Peter, but even though no one had told her not to speak, she had a general sense that it probably would be a bad idea to start a conversation.

Charles nodded firmly at Wendy. “The good news,” he said quietly, “is that we’re not far from the precinct. The bad news is that I now know what it’s like to be detained.”

“They didn’t read us our Miranda rights,” Wendy said just as quietly. “Can’t we sue or something?”

Charles shook his head. “It’s not that kind of arrest.”

The policewoman driving them glanced at them placidly over her shoulder, but didn’t tell them to be quiet, so Wendy proceeded more confidently.

“Aren’t you worried about your school stuff?”

“Shh,” Charles said. “If things go the way we hope, that will be the least of our problems.”

“My dad is not going to care what kind of arrest this is,” Minsu said mournfully. “And I only have about an hour to get home.”

“You have got to give up the concept that you’re getting home on time,” Charles said. “And we should really stop talking.”

Wendy sighed and sank lower in the seat. She put her head against the window and let the road rattle her brain around her skull for the rest of the ride to wherever they were being taken. After about ten minutes, they stopped at a large police station.

The officer opened their car door and told Charles, Minsu, and Wendy to join Tinkerbelle, Ominotago, Nibs, Fyodor, and Curly in a line outside the station. Ominotago was at the back, her brown eyes widening as she saw Wendy cuffed with the rest of them. Wendy smiled at her sheepishly and shrugged. Ominotago’s face crumpled, and before the officer nearby had time to do anything about it, Ominotago leaned forward and pushed her forehead against Wendy’s in sweet apology for the circumstances. Even though the officer turned Ominotago right back around, Wendy could still feel the warmth of her friend’s touch, and it grounded her. She was thankful for it as they walked through the hallways of the station.

It was busy inside, but Wendy didn’t see any of the kids who had been at the party. Everyone else in here was an adult, from the police all the way to the people she could see on their way to holding cells. She and the others were marched right past the booking area to the back of the station. The officer in front opened a locked door and pushed them all inside, locking it tightly behind them.

To Wendy’s surprise, they weren’t in a cell at all. It looked like some kind of waiting room. It was sparsely decorated, but there were chairs, a table, a few magazines, and even a water cooler. None of these things would do them any good because they were all still handcuffed, but it was relaxing to know they were in a room where someone cared whether they had something to read.

“What is this place?” Wendy asked. She sat down on a low couch and grimaced at how uncomfortable it was.

Fyodor sat down next to her, smiling mirthlessly and raising an eyebrow. “Waiting room?”

“It’s where they put you when they can’t decide if you’re a suspect or not,” Curly said, leaning against the large table in the middle of the room. Nibs mirrored his position; he rolled his shoulders as if he were doubly irritated by the fact that he couldn’t use his hands.

“No,” Ominotago corrected. “It’s where they put you when they’ve decided that you’re going to be interviewed and they don’t know whether you’re a suspect yet, but want to have access to recordings of you talking and your DNA from drinking water from the cooler.

“In our situation,” she continued, “because we slipped zip tie cuffs earlier and now they can’t trust whether we’ll follow instructions, they detained us in the ‘bad kids but not so bad as to be in cells’ area.” She lifted one of her legs up and tucked it under her cuffed arms, then did the same with the other so that her arms were cuffed in front of her body instead of behind.

“Don’t do that,” Fyodor said, scooting low into the couch cushions. “They do not like that.”

Ominotago shrugged, looped her cuffed arms over Tinkerbelle’s head so they were locked together, then kissed her on the cheek.

Wendy glanced quickly at Fyodor out of the side of her eye. She tried not to turn her head in his direction,