We’d be happy to return it. In person.
Oh, that sneaky, manipulative... I tap furiously at my screen.
Me
So it IS a hostage situation. What’s next? Sending me pictures of my planner tied to a chair with today’s newspaper?
There’s a pause, and I can almost picture him smirking at his phone.
Rett
That’s not a bad idea, actually. Though Diego and I thought we should just return it. We were outvoted.
Me
There are FOUR of you. How were you outvoted?
Rett
Dane counts for two votes when he actually speaks.
Despite my frustration, I find myself biting back a laugh. Then I quickly sober. Three dots appear before disappearingagain. I bite my lips, watching as they appear again before he finally sends the message.
Rett
Talk to us?
A sigh makes my shoulders deflate.
Me
Okay. We need to talk. But not like this. Give me a few days to get my head on straight. What about dinner? All of you. We’ll figure this out.
There. I did it.
His response is immediate:
Rett
Just name the time and place. We’ll be there.
I set the phone down, feeling surprisingly calm, despite that this is still the most absurd situation I’ve ever found myself in.
Myphone buzzes again.
Rett
By the way, you have an appointment tomorrow titled “Davelle Tour for Sparne exhibit,” 2 PM.
I groan, dropping my head into my hands. They’re really going through my planner. This is a nightmare.
But then again...at least I know about the Davelle tour. I’d completely forgotten.
I take a deep breath. In a few days, I’ll meet with them. We’ll talk like adults. We’ll figure out what the hell is going on with these marks and this strange pull I feel toward them despite everything.
For now, I just have to hide these damn marks and figure out how to get through tomorrow without my planner.
Tomorrow is going to be a long day.
