Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 128488 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 514(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128488 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 514(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Instead, they planned and discussed possibilities for escape, few of which they’d come up with so far. Sometimes they spoke out loud, too, after they’d sung the most secret part of their conversation. They’d pretend they were talking about another topic, when they were actually discussing the secret they’d just shared. He hoped that anyone listening in, even if they were suspicious about some part or another of their spoken conversation, would have no frame of reference from which to make any assumptions.
So far, they’d worked out that they needed the codes to their cages, and they might have a way. By watching in the henchman’s tie pin, which, so far, he’d worn each time he’d shown up. But that presented a few problems. Number one, he only entered the code when they’d moved away from the door to their cage. Number two, sometimes he was turned slightly away. And number three, they weren’t even sure the code could be seen clearly in such a small accessory. The theory hadn’t been tested.
Evan kept tapping, and Noelle finally began to sing.
“Stole a song of sixpence, a something full of rye,” Noelle murmur-sang, raising her voice on the correct words so those were the ones that stood out.
Stole. Something.
His pulse gave a sharp leap. No wonder she’d looked like she was vibrating in some strange way. He’d assumed it was shock, but no; was it nervous energy she’d been trying to contain since she’d swiped some object from the room? But what? He’d done a full visual inspection of the space, and even when he wasn’t tied up, there was nothing small enough to swipe and hide. He stretched his neck, giving a small questioning shrug in response, knowing she was watching him from behind. What?
“Four and twenty pencils baked in a pie. When the part was opened, the birds began to sing.”
Pencil. Part.
That confused him. He knew that sometimes it was too difficult to say a specific word because it either didn’t blend into the song or it gave too much away, should it be overheard. He assumed that was the case now, so he considered the parts of the pencil and what purpose they might serve but couldn’t come up with anything other than maybe a sharp piece of wood. But that would be so tiny that even if they managed to sharpen it into a blade, it would break upon contact with even the softest target. Another stretch, another shrug. Why?
“Oh, wasn’t that a dainty plug, to fire before the king?”
Plug. Fire.
He’d been rubbing his shoulder, sore from the push-ups he’d done while she was gone, and now he paused, his breath catching. He gave a small cough to cover his reaction.
“I’m done,” she said.
Evan turned, lying down on the floor of his cage and facing her where she was now doing the same across from him. “You were telling me about that kitten you found when you were a kid,” he said, picking up the topic they’d been using to converse about their plan earlier. He assumed that, like him, she made up some of what she told him to fit within the framework of the secrets they told but that she also inserted some truth.
“Right,” she said. “Yes. So, I adopted this kitten, but he was a little troublemaker who was always causing havoc in places he shouldn’t.” She yawned, and her eyes slid upward and slightly to the back before her gaze quickly returned to him. Evan stretched his neck, his glance going to the place behind her that she’d signaled toward. There was only the small square of the dumbwaiter directly behind her cage. Was that what she meant? “Even the smallest, seemingly inconsequential places,” she said.
So not the dumbwaiter. His gaze slid backward on another stretch, his eyes moving over the outlet off to the right of the dumbwaiter and low on the wall. Was that what she was talking about? Her chin tipped downward. Yes.
Yes. Okay. So . . . she was proposing using the piece of pencil she’d stolen to start a fire in the outlet somehow? That seemed . . . highly unlikely. Then again, he actually had no idea if that could even be accomplished, but she seemed to think otherwise. He could do nothing except trust she knew something he didn’t.
Something occurred to him. Wasn’t her father an electrician? Maybe she’d picked up some knowledge on electrical from him. His hope soared.
He blinked once. I understand. Enough, anyway.
He saw her lip curve slightly before she turned it against the arm her head was resting on. They were both very precise now with their movements and signals. This second language they’d created had been built on fear and necessity and therefore honed in a way Evan didn’t think he’d be able to teach someone if he had months to do it. They had no idea where the cameras were in this room, so they had to assume they were everywhere.