A Web So Dark and Deadly

Chapter Three

When I finally wake up the next day, the previous night feels more like a dream than reality. I roll over, squinting at my phone. Through my blurred vision, I note the time: one pm. I slept for a solid eleven hours.

I pocket my phone, stumbling out of bed and into the kitchen. A gourmet fruit bowl sits in my fridge, another complimentary item Tabitha gifted me. I pull it out along with the yogurt and bread I brought from my previous apartment. While my toast is heating in the oven, I explore the kitchen. Four crystal bowls and plates await in the first cabinet. The second contains a pristine set of wine glasses, some tall, others short and stout.

Cabinet three surprises me with the first taste of reality I've gotten since arriving. Among four white mugs and six espresso shots, there is a mug that looks like it's made of legos and another that says "University of Florida" across it.

"Huh." I peer inside the drawers next. All sorts of kitchen tools populate them, not to mention the most packed silverware container I've seen in my life. I grab a fork and spoon out.

A burning smell emanates through the kitchen. The toast. I rip the oven door open, waving away smoke as I rush to find a pot holder.

How is there not a single pot holder in this kitchen? I shake my head, quickly pulling the sweatshirt I'm wearing over my satin pajama set and using it to pull the oven tray out. I flick the toast into my bowl before opening a window to clear the smoke.

Once the kitchen is cleaned up a little more, I sit down at the bar, stabbing a piece of dragon fruit to eat with the artificial-tasting peach yogurt. I pull my phone from my short's pocket, scrolling through my notifications. At the top, Saige sent a message saying,

"I'm working right now, but PLEASE call me if you need anything."

I smile, type a quick reply, then scroll through the rest of the notifications. There are some from Instagram, a news story about another local millionaire being murdered, updates from YouTubers I follow, and the weather forecast. I move on to my emails next. My fork pierces a perfect cube of mango. It is the sweetest, juiciest mango I've had in my entire life.

At the top of my inbox is a message sent from Tabitha this morning. Steeling myself with more mango, I open it.

Cleo,

Thank you for retrieving that message for me. I need you to attend the Ink and Parchment Festival being held tomorrow at the Sorrel Gardens. There's a booth there called "Ancient Carvings." It's number thirty-two on the map I attached, which shows all the booth locations. I need you to arrive as soon as the gates open at eight am. Once you locate the booth, pick up every piece of wood until you find one that sends pulses through your hand. Money is no object when purchasing the wooden piece. You can pay with the cash in the drawer on your bedside table.

Please note that you must not bring me a replacement. I need this one specifically, please and thank you. You'll know the wood when you feel it. It should feel almost like a heart beat when you touch it. If someone buys it first, note as many details of their appearance as possible.

Tabitha

What the actual heck. Tabitha expects me to suddenly be an expert in finding random pieces of wood? She saw my resume. I have almost zero credentials to do anything, much less evaluate pulses in metal. She couldn't have given me a crash course in this yesterday at her apartment, or at least mentioned it to me?

I shake my head. I guess I'll have to give this my best shot.

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