Chapter Twenty-three 13 page

?What about you?? Isabelle asked her.

Hope pointed at her glass eye. ?I had intraocular melanoma?eye cancer?and had to have my eye removed. My big issue is my ongoing health. No one has any idea how cancer cells react to lycanthropic mutation. I?ve had some good news recently, but I?d never risk my health doing something so potentially dangerous with so many unknowns. Jolie would never ask it of me. Plus, I don?t think a one-eyed wolf would be any more capable than a one-eyed human, so I?ll just stick with what I got.? She finished with a smile.

Hope and Godfrey finished their meal, but Isabelle still poked her steak around her plate in a pool of bloody gravy.

?Is the steak not good?? Godfrey asked, picking up the cell phone for the umpteenth time.

?I?m hungry but my stomach?s in knots.? Isabelle pushed her plate away.

?Your turn now. Tell us about Ren. Is she your partner?? Hope asked, finally getting the conversation to where she needed it to be.

Isabelle?s face closed over.

?You can trust us,? Hope said. ?Are those her guys over there?? She nodded at the three young men hunched in a booth in the far corner. ?Is she chasing you, Isabelle? Did she kill Barry??

?No!? Isabelle jerked in her seat. ?Ren is kind. She would never do that.?

?Kind? She burned your car, took your passport and money. Hid you away in some valley of the damned,? Hope said. ?That?s not kind. That?s a dog with a bone.?

?She is kind. She has all these kids that belong nowhere??

?They had to come from somewhere, Isabelle. How do you know she didn?t ?make? them, just like she made you??

Isabelle was floundering. ?I know she didn?t. She?s looking after them. She?s trying hard, but sometimes it gets to be too much. I?ve seen her worry about real things, like money, the kids, about work and the future? Look, I just know, okay? I just know.? She bit her lip and looked away. ?You don?t fret about next season?s workload if you?re making werewolves for the fun of it.?

?So she has a pack of what? Runaways? Feral kids from the city? Where does she find them?? Godfrey asked.

?I think they find her. I?m not sure. I couldn?t?didn?t ask. When I found out what they were I ran, remember?? There was bitterness in her voice. ?I wish I?d known you then. I wish I?d someone to talk to.?

This was not what Hope expected.

?But I do know this,? Isabelle said quietly. ?Those kids adore her. Whatever they are, and wherever they came from, they are lucky to have found her and they know it. They?re nice kids. I don?t know how any of them could have survived without her.?

Isabelle stood. She was obviously upset. ?I need the washroom.? She slid out of the booth. The young men watched her every move, then relaxed as the ladies? room door swung shut behind her.

?Do you need to go with her?? Godfrey asked anxiously. ?What if she makes a run for it??

?I don?t think she will. Where?s there to go around here??

Hope threw a look over to the three guys. They shivered over their glasses of tap water under the scathing eyes of the waitress. Two of them looked very poorly, their faces waxen under the harsh light. Hope had seen that look before, in lines outside homeless shelters. A great sorrow filled her. She thought of Ren?s pack. Isabelle was so certain they were the lucky ones. Yet she?d run away as?

Godfrey?s phone rang.

?It?s Claude,? Godfrey whispered excitedly. He passed on their information and listened carefully to Claude?s instructions. The three guys fixed on him, making Hope suspicious. They hadn?t minded while they sat and ate their meal, but now that Godfrey had received a call they were getting edgy. It dawned on her that they were waiting on instructions, too. Their job was to keep them under surveillance and in one place until reinforcements arrived. They became agitated when it looked like Hope and Godfrey might be making tracks with Isabelle in tow.

One of the youths caught her eye and bared his stained teeth; the other two tried to scowl menacingly but only managed to look more bilious.

?We need to get going.? Godfrey ended the call. ?Claude says to get out of here and keep to the original plan. We?re a harder target if we?re moving. So much for brazening it out here and waiting for help. Go get Isabelle.?

Hope entered the ladies? room. It was small, just a waiting area with a sink and a lockable door to the toilet cubicle.

?Isabelle.? Hope rapped on the locked door. ?Claude called. We need to get going.? Her knock was greeted with silence. She grew uneasy that Godfrey had been right, and Isabelle had run for it. She knocked again, more vigorously. ?Isabelle!?

This time she was answered with shuffles and some wet sniffs. It sounded as if Isabelle was crying.

?Let me in. Let me help,? Hope said softly. The lock snipped and she gently pushed the door open and froze.

Isabelle stood in the middle of the small room, her face wet with tears, her thin body trembling. Her fingers were stained dark with blood and a sour smell assaulted Hope?s nose. The floor was littered with the contents of the sanitary bin.

?Oh, honey,? Hope whispered, shocked.

?I couldn?t help it.? Isabelle choked on a small sob. ?I just had to tear it apart. I?m insane. I?m crazy for the smell of blood, yet I can?t eat the steak I?m craving. This morning I emptied your fridge, this afternoon my guts are on fire. I?m changing and it?s going to kill me. I know it will, and I don?t know what to do, Hope.?

?I know you?re going through hell. I?ve seen it with the young Garouls. The first time is hard, but once we get you to Little Dip, Marie will have potions and stuff to help.? What else could she say to make this any better?

Hope wrapped her hands in toilet tissue and scooped the contents back into the bin. She dragged Isabelle to the sink and briskly scrubbed her face and hands with cold water and ran wet fingers through her disheveled hair.

?Okay?? Hope rested her hands on Isabelle?s skinny shoulders and gave her a small shake of encouragement. ?We need to get going. Godfrey will be freaking out.?

They left the washroom arm in arm and strolled back to their booth and Godfrey?s fretful face.

?Those guys were snarling at me. They need some serious dental work,? he said as they sat down beside him. ?What the hell kept you??

?What happens in the ladies? room stays in the ladies? room.? Hope patted his arm comfortingly. ?What?s the scoop??

?We run for it. That?s the scoop.?

?It might be difficult shaking these guys on the way to the car,? Hope said.

?We need a distraction. Oh! Maybe we could set fire to the tablecloth? It deserves it,? he said.

?That would bring everyone?s attention on to us. Hardly ideal for sneaking out.? Hope shook her head in disbelief.

?Order them some food,? Isabelle said quietly.

?What?? Hope turned to her.

?They?re broke and famished. Look at the way they?re watching everyone else?s orders pass their table. They?re practically salivating. Have some burgers sent over. If their hunger is anything like mine, they?ll be distracted all right.?

?But you didn?t eat your steak,? Godfrey pointed out.

?I don?t feel good. I?m starving, but I can?t eat.? Under the garish lighting Isabelle was paler than ever.

?Why?s that?? he asked.

?I don?t know. Maybe it?s shock,? she said.

?Okay. Let?s do this.? Godfrey waved for the waitress. ?Excuse me, miss.?

?When we make a run for it, will you hold my hand?? Hope asked Isabelle. ?My depth perception is out of whack. When I move too fast, I get disoriented and fall over my own feet.?

?Deal.? Isabelle reached over and gave Hope?s hand a reassuring squeeze.

Fifteen minutes later the young men were staring in confused longing at the food set before them. While the waitress unloaded her tray and explained the people at table two had already paid, Hope, Godfrey, and Isabelle slid outside as quickly as possible.

They were halfway across the parking lot when the diner door crashed open behind them. Godfrey reached the car first, jumped in, and revved the engine savagely into life. Hope and Isabelle, running hand in hand behind him, piled into the backseat, squashing Tadpole.

Godfrey shot out of their parking space before the rear door was shut, narrowly missing their closest pursuer. Hope looked out the back window, puffing with exertion and relief. All three guys had backtracked and were piling into a beat-up Ford Escort.

?I think we?re okay,? Hope said. ?They?ll never catch us in that old bonerattler.?

A huge, hulking shadow dashed across the road before them, just out of range of the headlights. It was a meaningful charge, more for show than an attempt to halt the car.

?What the hell was that?? Hope asked, her heart sinking. She clambered in beside Godfrey. ?Reinforcements??

Godfrey tightened his grip on the wheel. ?I don?t know. But I don?t think they?ll be coming after us in a bonerattler, somehow.?

Chapter Twenty-one

Ren stood on the roadside opposite the trim, well-ordered house with its happy yellow door and neat flowerbeds. She could tell by its quiet demeanor, from its blank windows and general stillness, that no one was home. The air around it, though, that was a riot. Wolven musk, den markings, warnings, mate claiming, there was a lot of werewolf activity at this house.

She glanced up and down the street. It was empty of people and traffic. Lunch was long over, and the schools had not closed for the day. The early afternoon lull in neighborhoods such as this would continue for at least another forty minutes. Taking advantage of the quiet, Ren crossed over and disappeared around the back of the house.

In the secluded yard she took her time and soaked up the multilayered smells. It was a wolf den, calm and well-ordered, and Isabelle had been here. Had this den taken her in? Ren growled, but it came out sad and lowly. Not the aggressive claiming growl that had rumbled from her chest at the strangest, most inappropriate moments. The one that had alarmed fellow passengers on the plane, or the line at the car rental kiosk, and the ATM. Even the staff at her motel were avoiding her.

Ren hung her head. This home shamed her. It was happy, full of love and positivity. It shone with all she had failed to bring to her own den. This house had become a cornerstone of the Portland circuit she constantly trawled looking for Isabelle.

She had started by skulking around Reed College and the surrounding area. She hung out around Isabelle?s old address in Billinghurst. But the For Sale sign, and the weaselly little man who stormed in and out, became another dead end. In desperation she had taken to following Barry Monk. To his work, his parents? house, the gym, his therapist?anywhere. But he never went near Isabelle.

She had done this for weeks. Going over the same old ground, ever hopeful of a new clue. One whiff was all she needed. Around and around she went in her self-styled circuit. At night she?d change and do it all again, only better. And she?d found her. A trace of her in Sellwood Park. Sweat and stress poured out off her. She?d been running, and Ren knew what she was running from and that it would eventually catch her. She had to find Isabelle first. She had to be there for that first change. It was dangerous for Isabelle to be alone.

Ren looked at the scratches on the patio door. The only discordant note about this den, and this time her growl came out sounding right. A snarl of pure white rage. The scents were old, they were weak and sour, but she recognized them and the story they told. This was bad. This was dangerous.

Isabelle was on the run again, and rightly so. This den was helping her, and Ren was jealous and morbidly downcast. She wanted to be the one Isabelle turned to. Ren knew this pack scent. It told her who lived here, and who came and went. And it told her where to look next.

?How fast can these things run?? Godfrey glanced warily out his side window. The Lexus zoomed along night roads. Rain beat on the windows, the tires threw up water, and the wipers slammed back and forth at high speed. Every so often a shadow would detach from the surrounding gloom and race toward the car. Godfrey hauled on the wheel and swerved to avoid it.

?They?re playing with us,? Isabelle murmured, an oasis of calm in the tense atmosphere inside the car. Her mind was relaxed where her companions were on the verge of panic. The attack plan seemed crystal clear to her. She wondered how she could see it while Godfrey and Hope couldn?t.

?Why don?t they just jump and try to stop the car?? Hope asked.

?I don?t think that?s the plan. They can chase alongside for short bursts, but we?ll always outrun them.? Isabelle watched as another beast came crashing out of the trees. Rainwater flew off its coat; its eyes gleamed in the approaching headlights.

?Shit, here comes another one.? Godfrey gripped the steering wheel tighter.

?Don?t swerve this time,? Isabelle said. ?They want us to swerve away from them. These lunges are just distractions.? She glanced off to the opposite side of the road but could see nothing through the rain-beaded glass. ?Remember, they have better night vision. You don?t know what you?re driving toward every time you swerve.?

?I can?t just drive over it.? Godfrey was panicked.

Stressing out the driver was probably part of the plan. It all clicked into place in Isabelle?s mind. She saw the logic in it. It made sense. She must be acquiring some sort of inherited hunt instinct.

?Believe me, it can see you. It will move.? She gripped the back of Godfrey?s seat and watched over his shoulder as he hit the gas and kept a steady line. The beast roared and ran toward them. With a grating thud it bounced off the passenger side front fender. They all winced.

?So much for that theory,? Hope said. ?They?re obviously on a suicide mission.?

?I think it expected me to swerve.? Godfrey kept on going. ?Can you hear that noise? I think the fender is rubbing on the tire or something. Shit.?

Isabelle stared out the back window into the night. She?d had countless nightmares reliving the moment her car hit Joey. His tawny, blood-soaked fur crushed against her windshield was an image etched on her mind now and forever. The hunt and her terrified efforts to escape it had returned to her full force soon after she?d arrived in Portland. She had nearly all her memory now, except for a frustratingly small segment?meeting Ren. Their first meeting and the start of their friendship still eluded her. Often she had thumbed through the charred pages of her journal hoping that some word, some daydream, or idle thought would bring it all flooding back. But always she drew a blank, while the images of Joey howling in pain and the rest of the pack closing in on her were as vivid as if it had happened only yesterday.

Her guts roiled as parts of her nightmare were re-enacted before her. This was a standard hunt procedure, to unnerve a moving prey by continuous charging, making it swerve and skew until it became disoriented and exhausted.

She looked back to see if the creature had risen or was still lying wherever it had been thrown, but couldn?t see in the red glow of their taillights. The darkness had swallowed it. She should feel sorry for it, perhaps lying by the side of the road badly hurt, but all she could think was, One down, God knows how many to go. In a fight for survival, she could be as cold-blooded as the rest of them.

Her hands were shaking with adrenaline, and her heart thumped until it felt pinched and sore. She wanted to get out of the car and run, run and never stop. Run through the rain into the wet world of the forest, where the earth would dig between her toes and raise a myriad of scents. She wanted the rain to stick to her pelt like jeweled buttons, and the wind to fill her head with forest sounds until her ears twitched with pleasure. Her tongue clicked on the roof of her mouth. She licked her lips and flicked the edges of her teeth. She wanted to live her dreams. It was almost time.

?Do you really think if we swerve around them we could be driving into something worse? Like a trap?? Hope asked her anxiously.

?I?m certain of it.? Isabelle spanned her fingers as far as they would stretch until every bone in her hand popped. Her feet were hot. Too hot for her shoes. She kicked them off.

As if to prove her words, up ahead another creature slid from the woods. This time they looked for a trap and could plainly see two others waiting on the opposite side of the road.

?Why didn?t they trick us the first few times?? Hope said.

?Timing? Luck? Maybe you didn?t swerve far enough. Maybe they weren?t all in place. It?s not meticulously planned, it?s just opportunism. There aren?t that many of them, and they have to run through the woods to the next turn in the road to catch up with us. They?ll be getting exhausted and desperate by now,? Isabelle said with satisfaction.

?You know a lot about it,? Godfrey said.

?I do.?

?So we?re stuck with them because this road is twisty?? Hope asked. ?How soon till we hit a straight stretch and get the hell out of here??

Godfrey shrugged. ?I?m not sure. This road is for tourists to enjoy the scenery, you?re not meant to drive through it like Casey at the throttle.?

The Were began its run toward them and Godfrey stepped on the gas, steadied the steering, and aimed straight for it. It stumbled uncertainly, then leapt aside at the last minute. It avoided the car by inches but slammed hard into a tree.

?Aha! Take that, you bastard,? Godfrey crowed. ?How?s that for a taste of your own medicine.?

?Another one bites the dust.? Hope high-fived him. ?Take your mama bowling tonight?? The roof above their heads dented in with an almighty bang. ?What was that!?

Isabelle peered out the back window as a huge branch bounced off the roof onto the road behind them. ?They?re in the trees throwing things.?

They all peered overhead in disbelief.

?In the trees?? Hope was flabbergasted. ?I?ve never seen Jolie in a tree in her life.?

?Duck!? Isabelle yelled. A huge branch shattered the sunroof, showering them in glass and rainwater. At the same time, they rammed into a pile of rocks scattered across the road. The Lexus tore over the top of them with an excruciating screech. Metal ripped and grated. Part of the exhaust jettisoned across the asphalt.

?Holy shit!? Godfrey struggled with the wheel. ?We keep veering to the right. The steering?s damaged.?

Hope and Isabelle pushed the branch back out of the sunroof.

?It?s an ambush.? They were closing in. Isabelle could sense it. The car was damaged. Godfrey was freaked. The hunt was winning. The Lexus and its passengers were becoming more helpless by the minute. In the red glow of the taillights, Isabelle could see a stream of oil in the wake of the car.

?Andre will kill me. He loves his car,? Godfrey said.

?Shut up and keep driving,? Hope shouted at him over the clatter of a trailing exhaust.

?I?ve got to get out,? Isabelle said. She was burning. She pulled at her clothes; they stuck to her sweat-slicked body, uncomfortable and claustrophobic.

?What?? Hope turned to her. ?Oh God. Not now.?

?What? What is it?? Godfrey asked, his eyes glued to the road.

?She?s changing.? Hope bit out.

?Jesus. Talk about timing. Oh, my God. Oh, my God,? Godfrey shrieked. ?What will we do? What will we do??

?You drive. I?m going in the back with her.? Hope grabbed a bottle of water and clambered awkwardly in beside Isabelle. She cupped her hand and poured some water in it.

?Here, honey. This will cool you down a little.? She bathed Isabelle?s burning face and cupped her cool hand around the nape of her neck.

?I want out.? Isabelle raised her face to the rain and cold air racing in through the broken sunroof. She was ablaze. ?The car?s had it. Let me out. They?ll follow me and you two can get away.?

?No.? Hope shook her head. ?Won?t work. You know I can?t move fast, and Godfrey runs like a pregnant teenager. We?d get ten paces and it would be over. We need to stick together, Isabelle, or we all lose.?

?I?ll need to pull over soon,? Godfrey shouted from the front. ?This car?s going nowhere?well, nowhere I point it at. The oil light?s on and I smell smoke. It?s kaput. What will we do? What will we do?Oh my God! It?s the Lucky Seven.?

They rolled into the parking lot, into the same space they?d vacated just half an hour ago. Several inquisitive faces peered at them through the plate glass windows.

?You mean we drove in a circle all this time?? Hope was outraged. ?No wonder they kept bombarding us. All they had to do was stand still and wait for our next circuit!?

?Well, how was I to know with all that swerving?? Godfrey yelled back.

Isabelle kicked open the door and staggered out into the night air.

?Isabelle,? Hope called after her.

?I just need air. Lots and lots of air.? Isabelle sucked great gulps of it.

?You guys okay?? The waitress stood on the top steps under the awning, out of the rain.

?That?s what a big tip gets you,? Godfrey muttered, pleased. ?We had a run-in with a rock. Can I get a tow truck out here?? he called over.

?Sure, hon. Come in and use the phone.?

?I?m staying here with her.? Hope nodded at Isabelle.

?I?ll be two minutes.? Godfrey ran over to the diner steps.

Isabelle urged Hope to follow him. ?Go and get warm. I?ll come in a moment.?

?No. I want to make sure you?re okay.?

?I am. Leave me. I?m fine.?

Hope shook her head. ?No way.?

The bushes nearby rustled and Isabelle whipped her head around and snarled out a warning. Hope blinked.

?That?s a very impressive snarl,? she said. ?Is there something out there??

Isabelle shook her head. ?I was spooked.? Nevertheless, she headed toward the bushes to make sure. ?Wait here.?

She slid through a gap into a thicket and stood still, her face raised to the breeze. Fox musk. That was the rustling. They came here to scavenge around the diner bins. Her nostrils flared delicately. Mice in abundance, and squirrel, too. New shoots, old wood. Spring. It made her want to grin, and stretch, and scratch her back on fresh, new grass. Tadpole?s tinny bark turned her toward the parking lot. She pricked her ears, the wind snatched at another, weaker bark, and tore it away from her.

?Hey!? Godfrey?s call came from close by.

?You guys,? he called again. ?Come in here and get some coffee. The tow truck?s on its way.?

Hope didn?t answer. Isabelle pushed through the bushes back to the parking lot.

?There?s pie.? Godfrey was even closer now. ?Hope? I said there?s pie?Jeez, you scared me.? He jumped when Isabelle appeared beside him.

He looked past her. ?Where?s Hope??

Isabelle frowned. ?In the car.?

?No, she?s not.?

They looked over at the Lexus. Rain drummed on its bent and scratched paintwork. The fender was crushed, grill dented, and left headlight busted. The back doors lay wide open. Not that it mattered. Rain poured through the broken sunroof staining the luxury cream leather to a lurid butter yellow.

?Where is she?? Godfrey asked again, his voice scratchy with panic. ?Hope?? he called out to the half-empty lot. A soft whimper came from the far side of the car. They ran toward it.

?Oh, Taddy.? He knelt down beside the rain-soaked dog. Tadpole lay on the grass, his side swelling and falling as he fought for breath. He gave a wheezing whine as they approached. He lay there, unable to move, even when Godfrey reached out with trembling hands to touch him. ?I think his ribs are broken.? Godfrey?s voice shook.

The wind shifted in a sharp, leaf-rattling swirl. Isabelle?s nostrils filled with a familiar and unwelcome scent.

?Patrick!? she spat out. She lurched to her feet, and in a crouched run took off across the parking lot, leaving Godfrey kneeling in the mud calling her name.

Chapter Twenty-two

Ren?s tires squealed on the wet asphalt. She screeched to a halt before the stricken man. He hunkered on his knees, water running from his clothing, a scrap of a dog in his lap. She pushed open the passenger door.

?Get in,? she growled over the downpour. ?Now. There?s more on the way.?

He shivered all over from shock and the cold, and stared at her unmoving. Across the lot bushes rattled. Dark shapes slunk through the shadows, leery of the light from the diner windows and the neon glow reflecting off every wet surface.

?Now!? she roared. He lurched to his feet and staggered into the passenger seat. He cradled the injured dog in his arms; rainwater dripped off both of them onto the floor. She had to stretch across to slam his door shut. He stank of fear and despair and wet dog?and Garoul. She stepped on the gas.

?My friends are back there. I have to help them,? he babbled, shivering violently.

?We will.?

He squinted at her through the gloom. She could hear his heart pounding, the faint chatter of his teeth, the short, snatched puffs of his breath.

?Who are you?? he asked. The quiver in his voice gave him away. He knew who she was. She turned her head and stared him directly in the eye.

?Ren.?

?You?re a Garoul.? He wasn?t asking a question.

?Yes.?

?I?ve never seen you before.?

?No.?

They sped on in silence while he digested this. The drum of rain on the roof and the swish of tires on the wet road were the only sounds.

?You must be the talkative one,? he finally said.

She ignored him and smoothly drove her car at top speed around the broken tree boughs and huge rocks strewn across the road. The crude ambush had been the giveaway. Ren knew this trick well. Isabelle and her companions had to be nearby, hopefully still unharmed. The oil spill and telltale drag of their exhaust along the road had led her to the Lucky Seven parking lot.

?I?m Godfrey. Andre?s partner,? he said.

She grunted. The little dog whimpered weakly.

?It?s going to be okay, Taddy. Ren will help us. She?s family,? the man whispered, his fingers gently stroked a bloody paw.

She looked at him sideways and made up her mind.

?Yes,? she said, and kept driving.

He dragged Hope from the car trunk by her hair. She tried to swing out at him but his fist connected with her temple. Hope saw stars, her stomach lurched, and she felt her temporal bones creak. She sagged and went along quietly. She didn?t need a shattered eye socket. Not on her good side.

The shack he was hauling her toward was shabby and weather-worn, and perversely enough, she recognized it. She had passed by here with Amy Fortune last fall, looking for Castilleja levisecta. The shack was about five miles outside of Lost Creek, and several more from Little Dip. She had tried to guess how much time she had spent in the suffocating car trunk while empty beer bottles bumped against her head and the smell of oily rags choked her. Little had she known their breakneck speed was taking her in the direction she?d been headed in all along.

Whoever he was, he had chosen his bolt-hole poorly, unless the proximity to the Garoul home valley was deliberate. It was dangerous for a feral to come this close to Garoul territory. The fact she was still alive told her she was a pawn in someone?s game. Already she could feel the side of her face swell from his punch. Her current ill treatment did not bode well. Whatever their plans, there was a good chance her general well-being was of no importance.

He kicked open the door and tossed her on to the floor. Without a word, the door slammed closed and the lock rattled. She was plunged into darkness. Hope sat up and brushed dirt off her gashed knees. Her head throbbed, and her temple was bruised to the touch. Her fingers gently probed the tender patches on her scalp where her hair had been torn out in clumps. She struggled not to cry, but every time she thought of Tadpole the tears welled up and rolled silently down her cheeks. He had tried so hard to protect her. She prayed Godfrey was caring for him.

And where was Godfrey? Had he managed to get Isabelle to Claude? A metallic clink snapped her from her desperate thoughts and into pure panic. Her throat closed over with fear. It came again, the quiet clink of a chain scraping against the wooden floor. She was not alone. Something was in here with her.

?You smell nice,? a child?s voice whispered in the darkness. It sounded lost yet hopeful all at the same time. ?Who are you??

Hope scanned the room. As her sight adjusted to the dark, she could just about make out a small, shadowy figure sitting on the floor diagonally across from her.

?I?m Hope. Who are you??

?Mouse. And that?s Patrick who pushed you in here. He?s mean. He made you cry.?

?Just a little.?

?Did he hurt you??

?Not much. He pulled my hair.?

?He pulled mine, too. I hate him.?

Date: 2016-06-12; view: 62