My phone dings again with another message from the flight attendant girls.
“Is that the pad chat?”
“Yup,” I say sheepishly.
“Ignore it. They are smart, capable women. You can’t keep coming to their rescue, or they’ll never stop pestering you. Why do you think they don’t ask me those sorts of questions? Because I stopped helping them. You don’t help drunk people, and you don’t tolerate intentional incompetence. They can figure out where the toilet paper is themselves.” Wren takes out her phone and turns it off. “They’ll come for me with direct texts next. Because they know I muted the group chat months ago. Which is something you should do too.”
“They’re not incompetent. Most of them are just barely ever there.”
“They have eyes Raine, let them use them.”
“Fine.”
“I see you reaching for your phone. Don’t answer Ellen about where the remote is. You haven’t been there in weeks.”
“But when Amy sleeps on the sofa, it always ends up under the cushion by the window.”
“Then let Ellen find it. It’ll be her own personal Easter egg hunt. Remember how much you used to love those as a kid?”
“I did. I probably still do.” I laugh.
“Right, give me your phone.”
“Fine, I can not answer it.” I slide my phone into my pocket.
“Not good enough. Turn it off. You have to do what I say—it’s my birthday.” She cocks her head to the side. I’m the one who made the darn rule so long ago. I have to follow it now. “Your phone is for your convenience, not others,” Wren says.
I sigh, but I take it out and turn it off before sliding it back into my pocket.
We pile into the tour group’s van with eight others. It winds through the village to the outskirts of town and pulls up outside a white-washed cottage. Out front, there are rose bushes and several tables.
A woman wearing a white skirt-like apron smiles as she welcomes us out of the van. “Come in, come in.” When we’ve all filed into the space with huge mixers and vats of sugar, she shuts the door. “This used to be my grandparents’ cottage, but as their chocolates gained popularity, it took up more and more space until my grandfather was sleeping in the goat shed out back...”
Thirty minutes later, I know I like spicy chocolate—something I would never have tried on my own—and I’veeaten my weight in chocolate. I place my hand on my stomach.
Wren elbows me. “I’m not sure my confectionary baby belly is going to fit in my uniform.”
“Mine either.” I laugh. “I’m going to have to borrow some leggings from you for tonight.”
Wren cocks her head at me.
“What? I’ll return them.” Apparently, she hasn’t gotten over the great clothing lending embargo of high school.
She smiles and pulls me in close.
“Thank you for the tour. It was amazing,” I say as the owner hands me a light blue bag with a dragon emblazoned in gold on it. I hold it up. It looks like Kieren.
“Do you like the dragons?” the owner says. “Have you seen them? They like to fly at night.”
“Ah, no.” I’m not sure why I lie to her. The NDA didn’t even cross my mind.
“Well, look for them flying down from the mountain at night. Though, they don’t eat people anymore. Not like my grandmother said they used to.”
“Oh.” I nod and smile and head outside to wait for Wren.
They’ve told us to wait on a small back terrace for the bus to come back. Wren’s become friendly with a couple from Ohio during the tour. Did Roark and Kieren ever eat a villager? I can’t imagine happy-go-lucky Evander causing harm. The sound of Kieren’s dragon’s screech echoes in my head.
There’s another cottage next door, a full line of them. The distance from the town shop to the cottage wasn’t that long.
