29
LINCOLN
Next morning, I wake up to the sound of steady knocking on our main door. Which means it isn’t the guards.
It’s one of our parents.
At this point, my money is on Xavier. Sure, the guy just promised to get us a flight-free path to heaven. But Myla’s father is a crafty fellow. I wouldn’t be surprised if he found something this quickly.
As quietly as possible, I slip out of bed and into my classic jeans-n-T combination. I’m tiptoeing to the door when Myla pipes up.
“That’s my dad, isn’t it?”
I glance over my shoulder to see her wrapped up, burrito style. Only her right eye is open.
“That’s what I suspect,” I reply.
“I’ll meet you at the door in a few.”
“Sure thing. I’ll get the door in the meantime.”As I cross through the suite, I cup my hand by my mouth. “Be right there!
