However, I’m going to do that task. I have to. I promised Hunter—and myself—that I would. But right now?
“I think I’ll go into town first,” I say. “I, uh, already told my friend I’m coming.”
Li nods. “You’re free to do whatever you want. You’re not trapped here, you know.”
I get up and take the envelope from the floor. I exit Li’s room and walk to the staircase.
I’m not trapped here, I know. But why does it feel like I am?
Chapter 24
Ron, Iris and Giselle enter the small diner next door because Iris insisted on having breakfast there this morning. Slow classical music is playing softly from the speakers on the ceiling.
The diner has four booths lining the windows with red leather upholstery and white tables. Across from the booths is a bar with red-topped stools. An old lady with short silver curls and circular glasses is sitting at the bar reading a newspaper. Behind the bar, a sweaty cook is visible in the kitchen due to a pass-through window.
Besides them, the diner is empty.
A newspaper rack with today’s Normal News papers stands by the entrance. Iris takes one but Giselle snatches it from her and puts it back.
“Don’t read that during our meal,” Giselle says.
“I’m not gonna read it now,” Iris whines.
“Then you can get one on the way out.”
Iris huffs as Giselle leads the way to the closest booth. She scoots into it so she’s by the window. Iris sits next to Giselle, slumping. Ron sits across from them.
The lady at the bar comes over with a menu and places it on the table. She’s chewing gum.
“Hey ladies, nice to see ya,” she says.
“Always a pleasure, Agnes,” Iris says with a smile, already over the fit she was throwing over the newspaper.
The server smiles back. “Ready to order?”
Iris and Giselle look at Ron.
“Oh, I’ll just be a moment,” Ron says. She hasn’t had a chance to look at the menu yet.
“No worries, hun. I’ll be back in a jiffy.”
Ron nods and she leaves.
Ron looks at the menu, grimy with fingerprints. It’s a laminated page with just text and no images. There are just a few items, namely different types of pancakes, omelets, and pies. Iris and Giselle don’t bother to look at it.
After a couple minutes, the server comes back.
“Ready now?” the server says.
Ron nods. “I’ll have the mushroom and cheese omelet, thanks.”
“Ya want potatoes with that?” the server asks.
Ron scans the menu listing again. She doesn’t see anything about it coming with potatoes and she isn’t sure if it’ll cost extra so she shakes her head. “No, thank you.”
“You should get the potatoes, Ron,” Giselle says. “If you don’t want them, I’ll eat them.”
“Oh, okay. I’ll get the potatoes then.”
The server nods. “And you ladies?”
“Two chocolate chip pancake specials,” Iris says. “Eggs over easy.”
“Coming right up.” She takes the menu from the table.
She goes behind the bar and shouts at the chef in the kitchen, “Two choco chips over easy and a mush-let with taters.”
“Roger,” the chef says, like a grunt.
“Do you guys come here often?” Ron asks.
“Hmm, maybe once every couple of months or so. I usually rather cook,” Iris says. “But I do come here every day for the paper.” Iris sighs. “I just don’t really feel like cooking these days.”
Giselle looks out the window with her head propped up on one elbow. “Why not?”
Iris shrugs. “I just feel uneasy, I guess. What with all the searching through the forest and,” she lowers her voice, “breaking into people’s cabins and stuff.”
Giselle turns to Iris, taking her elbow off the table. She also talks in a low voice. “I’m sorry if that makes you uneasy but you don’t have to worry. We’re not in any danger. Carl didn’t even know we were there.”
“Sure, maybe you’re not in any danger right now but these are gifted people we’re talking about. They kill and steal and lie without any thought.”
Ron frowns. Iris doesn’t talk like that often, but whenever she does, she always says the dumbest, most ignorant things about gifted people. Even Giselle, who seems to hate the gifted more than Iris, never talks like that. But Ron doesn’t want to give them a reason to be upset with her, so she scrubs the frown from her face and keeps her mouth shut.
“Regardless,” Giselle says, “we’re on a mission. You know that.”
“Why can’t you let someone else handle this? Why does it have to be you?”
“Iris, I don’t get it. You used to be very excited and supportive about this.”
The music stops. Ron looks up at the speakers on the ceiling and then over at the bar. The server is talking to the cook through the window softly but their body language looks agitated. Iris and Giselle don’t seem to notice, and just continue talking.
“Yeah,” Iris says, “but that was before all of that with Carl. It’s too scary now. There’s too much we don’t know.”
“That’s why we have to keep going. We have to find out what’s going on.”
“You’re gonna get yourself hurt—or worse.” She turns to Ron. “You too, Ron. You could get killed.”
Ron turns her attention back to the two of them, shifting in her seat uneasily. She was hoping not to get involved but now Iris has dragged her into it. “I understand your concern, Iris, but this is impossible to ignore.”
Iris turns to Giselle. “There’s nothing I can say to get you to stop, is there?”
Giselle shrugs with a smile.
Iris sighs. “Just be careful. Please.”
“Of course.” Giselle tucks a piece of Iris’s unruly red hair behind her ears. “I wouldn’t want to make you a widow.”
Iris pouts. “You better not.”
“So what’s the plan now?” Giselle asks, turning back to Ron.
“I think we should try and get him out of there,” Ron says.
“Why?” Iris whines. “You don’t know what he’ll do to you if
