“Did you read the notes, Ashley?”
“No, nor do I plan to.”
“You can do this the easy way,” she suggests.
“Are you threatening me?” I reply, walking toward her, unafraid.
“It’s not a threat,” she says.
“Well, then I’ll take the hard way,” I tell her, brushing by her side so I can close myself in my bedroom.
My heart is pounding by the time I get the door closed. I grab my phone off the end of my bed and search for Bradley’s text chat.
Me: Should I expect to be murdered here? Is that what this is? I didn’t agree to this, Bradley.
It’s a good ten minutes before a return message appears.
Brad-Bro: Murdered? Do you think I would put you in a dangerous situation?
Me: Yes, at this particular moment, I do think that!
Brad-Bro: Just hang in there. Enjoy the free rent.
Free rent that comes with stalkers. Best big brother ever.
Me: Tell me why I’m really here, or I swear this won’t end well for either of us. You said it was a former social study. What is the study, Bradley?
I actually thought Bradley would respond to me since he was being responsive, but I’m not entirely shocked when he doesn’t respond after my last round of questions.
Infuriated with this situation, I call Mom’s cell number. I haven’t talked to them in the last few days. I texted them to let them know I arrived in one piece, but neither of them responded. They do that all the time, though; they’re not big on text messages.
I hold the phone up to my ear, and a loud, long beep stings my ear, followed by a robotic voice stating, “This call cannot be completed as dialed.”
Panic sets in and I search for Dad’s number and press on his contact next. I’m nervous as I lift the phone to my ear. Again I am met with a beep and the operator’s voice.
My fingers are tapping against the keyboard a mile a minute as I prepare another message to Bradley.
Me: I have no form of communication. What is this?
Three little dots pop up on my display. Then they disappear. The pausing dots flicker five more times before the screen goes blank for good.
I thrash my door open and feel a slight bit of relief to see the men are no longer standing in the middle of the living room. I knock on Kricket’s door first and walk in without being invited.
She’s sitting at the small writing desk in the corner of her room, working on her laptop. “What?” she says without turning around.
“Call your sister Katarina and ask her what the hell is going on around here, and why I can’t call anyone outside of this house.”
“Why would I call Katarina?” Kricket questions, clicking her mouse around her screen. “No one cut your phone privileges, princess. The service isn’t great here, though.”
“I want answers. Real answers. Not fake mysterious answers,” I tell her, sounding abundantly snippy to the point where I don’t expect her to help me.
“I already know the answers to your questions. Therefore, I don’t need to call my sister, Ashley.”
“What? Do you know what’s going on around here? Do you know why we’re the only women in an all-male-community? And why they’re approaching me like I have the last bit of water on earth. You know all this?”
“I told you they were kept away from women for six months. Therefore, I’m a little surprised you haven’t figured it out yet,” she mutters.
“Figured what out?” I shout, throwing my hands up in the air.
