All is not as it seems. Don’t trust anyone.
“Good news. My clothes returned,” I called into the living room.
“Thaddeus must have found the thief.”
“More like the thief grew a conscious,” I whispered and walked into the bathroom and grabbed a washcloth. After wetting it, I returned to the living room to find Porter was now sprawled out on the couch with his leg hanging off of it and his forearm shielding his eyes. I laid the cloth over his forehead and ran my palm across his cheek. “I’ll be back. Don’t open the door for strange women.”
“You have nothing to worry about. I don’t think I can even get up off the couch, and if they did make their way in here, they’d be severely disappointed. I only have eyes for you.”
I chuckled as I grabbed the key and locked the door behind me. Our trip through the woods had taken most of the day. It wasn’t quite dinnertime, and it was well after lunch. I could only hope someone in the kitchen could point me to the things I needed.
I strolled across the campus. A group of women dressed as counselors stopped talking as I walked by and began to whisper after I passed. My clothing thief leaned against one of the buildings, watching me with a spark of interest in her eyes. I yanked open the dining hall door and stepped inside the air-conditioned space.
I peeked into the kitchen to find the room empty aside from some covered containers that looked ready for that evening’s dinner. A woman shoved open another door across the room. Her steps faltered when she spotted me.
“You can’t be in here. We have health regulations,” she announced with a quick glance over her shoulder as she pulled the door closed, cutting off the voices coming from the other side of that door.
“I’m Clara Bennett, Porter Anderson’s fiancé. He wasn’t feeling well, so I was hoping I could get some crackers or a can of soup or something for him. If that wouldn’t be too much trouble.”
“He’s sick?” she asked, crossing the kitchen and opening a cabinet. She pulled down some crackers.
“Yeah, it hit out of nowhere. He was fine one minute and then sick the next,” I answered.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” the woman said, although her look contradicted her words. She opened the fridge and pulled out a container that could be chicken noodle soup. She handed me both of the items. “I’ll have some drinks brought over.”
“If it’s okay, I’ll just take two of those water bottles,” I said.
“Sure.” She piled them on top of the other containers.
I balanced everything as I turned and headed back out of the kitchen. I crossed the room and had shoved out the dining room door when I saw the woman from the kitchen watching me, and this time, another girl was standing beside her.
This place gave me the creeps. I shivered and headed across the campus again. Thankfully there were no women near my door that I’d have to fight off.
When I neared, the clothing thief approached and grabbed the drinks out of my hands. “Let me help you with those.”
“I can manage,” I said.
“No, I insist. My name’s Frankie,” the girl said, glancing over her shoulder.
I glanced back to find the area empty as I handed her the bottles and pulled the key out of my pocket. I opened the door to find Porter no longer on the couch.
She shut the door behind us and followed me into the kitchen. Like encroaching into my personal space kind of close.
I turned and almost bumped into her. “Uh…thanks, Frankie. I’m Clara,” I said, pulling the bottles out of her hand.
Frankie picked up the soup container and pulled the lid off.
“Excuse you. So now you steal food too?”
Frankie rolled her eyes before dumping the contents down the garbage disposal, running water, and turning it on.
“I’m repaying you for the note you gave me, not to mention making the bees go away.”
“By tossing our food?” I asked.
“It’s drugged,” Frankie said without flinching, as though she believed her words. Was she delusional?
“Surely you don’t mean narcotics.”