That food tray came out of nowhere, hovering in the air as the skinny man’s spindly fingers sat the tray in the corner by my head next to the wall the tub sat against.
I reached over my shoulder for a grape and plucked it off the stem. “Thank you.”
Mav shook his head. “No thanks needed. You take all of the time you need. Dante is here to talk when you’re ready.”
And with one last glance toward Slender Man, he left the two of us alone in that bathroom.
“Right,” I murmured as I sank deeper into the bubbles.
“I only have one question.”
His voice commanded my attention, even though it wasn’t harsh. “And what’s that?”
“Do you really want to see the paperwork?”
I tilted my head back and looked up at his upside-down face. “What paperwork?”
“The paperwork that proves I’m right. Do you want to hear it from a stranger? Or would you rather look at the papers for yourself?”
I shouldn’t have found it considerate that he asked, but I did. “I appreciate you asking.”
“They’re just downstairs if you want them. I could leave you alone with them to process and everything.”
Alone.
He was willing to leave me alone?
I nodded. “I’d like that.”
He pressed up from his perched position on the edge of the tub. “I’ll be back in five.”
“I’ll be right here,” I said as I reached for another grape.
I listened as he closed the bathroom door and I waited. I held my breath with that grape in between my fingertips and strained my ears to clock his footsteps. They were quiet. Almost too quiet. Almost as if he were intentionally quieting himself down. But that telltale click of the door told me that he had gotten out of the bedroom and into the hallway.
So, I practically lunged myself out of the tub.
“I have to get out of here,” I whispered to myself.
I bolted for the window in the room, my body dripping with water and bubbles. I flipped the lock and tried prying it open, but it wouldn’t come unstuck. Grunts and groans did nothing to aid in my lack of strength, and it angered me that I couldn’t get the stupid fucking thing open. But when I checked the seal, I noticed that it had been painted over.
“I can fix that,” I muttered to myself.
I hobbled over to the sink and threw open drawers. Most of them were empty, which wasn’t shocking, but it didn’t help my conundrum one damn bit. I dipped down onto all fours and opened the bottom drawers. I peeked beneath the sink for any signs of something sharp that I could use.
And when I found myself staring at a toolbox, I smiled from ear to ear.
“Bingo,” I hissed, reaching toward the back of the cabinet.
I moved as fast as I could, flipping the top open and rummaging for something I could use to scrape the paint away from the window frame. I found a small flathead screwdriver that sat perfectly within the palm of my hand, and for the first time in days, hope blossomed in my gut. I pulled myself out from beneath the sink and rushed back to the window. I jammed that fucking thing into the lower window frame and raked it across, taking with it chips of paint that flew into my face and splattered all over my wet body.
Until finally, the window popped.
“Gotcha,” I whispered.
I tossed the screwdriver to the floor and threw open the window. The wind kicked up, shrouding my face in fresh air as I drew in a deep breath. Home. I was one step closer to getting home. To getting help. To getting out of that place.
Until I opened my eyes.
