AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Drake gestured toward the door. “Do you want to get a tour of the place? See everything before lunch?”
A tour? Were we allowed to walk around at will if we didn’t have any pending tasks?
“Is, uh, is that allowed?” I asked.
Drake stared at me for a second then blinked and shook his head. He laughed. “Sorry. I phrased that wrong. I mostly meant did you want me to walk you back to your room. Our bunks are right next to each other.”
“Oh.” That made more sense based on what I’d experienced so far. “Sure. Let’s go.”
We strolled along slowly. It was nice not to have to hurry somewhere for once. We didn’t talk about much. The outside world, each second, became further and further away until it was basically unattainable. Talking about relationships and banalities outside the dollhouse was silly and pointless. The problem was, in here there wasn’t a lot to talk about other than torture, punishments, and fear.
After a few steps, Drake cleared his throat. “You know, I’m really into nonfiction. Stuff like history, psychology, and politics.”
I glanced at him sidelong, willing to play along. “Like what?”
“ ‘Thinking, Fast and Slow’ by Daniel Kahneman. It delves into human decision-making and the quirks of our minds.”
“Okay,” I replied, not sure what to say. It didn’t sound like light reading, but I wanted to listen if he was willing to talk. “Any others?”
Drake smiled at me. “Tell me what you read last.”
His genuine interest in what I had last chosen to read added to that moment of warmth I’d felt thinking about him in the shower. “Actually, the last book I read was ‘Salem’s Lot.’ ” Someone had left an old copy behind at the diner, and I’d snagged it.
“You like horror?” His brows rose as we turned down the hall toward our rooms.
“It was available.” I shrugged. “It wasn’t bad.”
In the quiet hall, as we took another step, the ever-present chime went off, and Sam interrupted our conversation. “All housemates please go directly to lunch.” There was nothing else after that lone sentence.
“It’s early isn’t it?” I asked.
Drake glanced around the hall, looking confused. Finally, he narrowed his eyes and said, “It is. I guess we should go.”
As soon as we stepped into the dining room, we saw why lunch had been moved up. Why Sam wanted us all together as soon as possible. He had a surprise for us. One none of us was expecting. Jeffery sat at the table. Alive and well and looking pissed.
Chapter 12
My jaw dropped at the sight of him. I, like everyone else, had seen him crash to the floor. He’d looked as close to dead as a person could possibly look. Now he was here, sitting at the dining room table. Narrow hazel eyes staring daggers at us all, damp hair slicked back, making his receding hairline painfully obvious.
“Hey, Jeff,” Elise said as she stepped into the room behind us. She sounded as confused and wary as I felt.
Drake took a hesitant step forward. “We, well, we didn’t think we’d see you today.”
Jeffery barked a laugh. “I suppose you wouldn’t, would you? To quote Mark Twain ‘the reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated.’ ”
Liam and Bri stepped into the room next and each had the same expression of shock and disbelief. I’d only been here a couple of days, but from the way everyone reacted, this wasn’t anything any of them had ever witnessed before. Apparently, in the dollhouse when someone looked dead, they were dead.
Before any of us could take a seat, Sam interrupted our awkward reunion. Bong. “Please take a seat, but make sure it’s not your usual seat. Choose a new spot. Do not touch your plates until you’ve all been seated.”
Instead of a stack of plates beside the trays of food like I’d seen each meal, there was a plate at each chair already. They were all flipped over with the bottom facing the ceiling.
Something about this setup was distinctly sinister. I was already nervous to see what Sam had planned for us.
Drake and I switched spots. Bri and Elise did the same. Liam sat in the chair that had been empty since my arrival. Jeffery snorted a derisive laugh and sat where Liam usually sat. Once we were seated, we stared at each other, silent and worried.
The voice returned. “To the right of each of your plates is a knife.”
I glanced down and saw what he meant. It was a thinly bladed weapon, like a pen knife. The point was needle-sharp and the blade was slender and wicked-looking. My stomach rolled over as I studied it.
