“Desiree.” My father’s stern voice causes my cheeks to heat with something akin to embarrassment. “Now isn’t the time.”
I push my shoulders back, heft my chin in the air, and continue on, ignoring him. “I was thinking about the attacks, and I wonder?—”
“We understand your concerns, sweetheart,” Matthew says with a kind smile. “But we’ll take it over from here.”
For the love of God.
“But if you’ll just listen?—”
“Desiree, I think it’s time you left,” my father says, his tone disapproving.
My right eye begins to twitch.
Without a word, I stand and smooth my hands down the sides of my pleated skirt. Then I turn and stomp out of the room, allowing the door to slam shut behind me.
Stupid, narcissistic, sexist assholes.
They don’t want to listen to my theory? Fine.
I’ll just have to prove it to them.
Then, when I save the day, they can kiss my polished Jimmy Choos in forgiveness.
But for now, I have more important things to focus on.
I fish my phone out of my clutch and scroll until I find Mimi’s number. After the attack, I ran into her and Emilia and was immensely grateful to see they were unharmed. Thank fuck. I have very few friends in the world, and I refuse to lose those I have.
The phone rings twice before Mimi picks up, her voice breathless and pitched with panic. “Desiree? What’s going on? Where are you? Did something happen?”
“Are you with Emilia?” I ask, glancing down at my fingers.
The nail on my pointer is slightly chipped, the polish splintering. I’ll need to get a manicure ASAP.
“She’s here. What’s up?”
“How do you guys feel about going on a little…field trip with me?” A smirk dances across my lips as I finally lower my hand back to my side, resigned with the fact that one nail will be a patchwork of ugliness.
“That sounded ominous.”
“Well, itisominous,” I confess with a shrug. “But I have a theory, and I need help to prove it.”
There’s a beat of silence, and then Mimi tentatively asks, “And that theory is…?”
“All in good time, my friend. All in good time.”
I probably sound like a stereotypical villain in a Disney movie, but fuck it. The less Mimi and Emilia know right off the bat, the better. Plausible deniability and all that.
“I guess we’re in?” Mimi phrases it as a question.
“Perfect. I’ll call you when I have more details.” With that, I hang up and slide the phone back into my purse.
Now for stage two of my plan…
It’s time for me to get captured by the Hunters.
Nineteen
IZZY
