Between Worlds (The Wall Series #1)

Chapter 7

I sighed. Every time I thought of my mother, I was reminded of my father and where in the world he might be.

I got up to keep my plate in the kitchen. "We should get going."

"Go where?" Heather asked.

"The sweets shop," I said.

"Will Anna go too?"

"Yes," Anna prompted. "What was it called again?"

"Frost n' Scoops," I said.

"Oh yeah!" she said, eyes wide. "That place where we were having donuts or something and you accidentally slapped Holly's donut from her hand and she slapped you—"

"Yeah, that's the one! Don't remind me!"

She laughed, twirling a strand of hair with her finger. "I'll never forget that."

"Yeah, me neither," I muttered.

"Should we get going, then?" Heather asked.

"Yeah, let's go."

As we kept our plates back and headed for the door, Anna said, "You're sure about this, right?"

"Well..." Her doubts were making me have second thoughts about this. Of course, it wasn't safe. But I had to go and I knew that.

"We could take something for, I don't know, self defense?" I said uncertainly.

"Knives?"

"The only knives I have are kitchen knives," I answered. I think I had a pocket-knife too, but it was probably buried somewhere in my cupboard, never to be found again.

"Might as well take those." Heather goes to the kitchen and brings back three knives. We placed them in our pockets.

Anna still looked doubtful. "Guys, this seems pretty shaky. We should be having a more solid backup than just knives."

"Like what?" I asked.

"Anything that can come in handy. A blade, a screwdriver, a pin. We don't know who we're going to encounter. We should be ready for all possibilities."

"Okay," I agreed. "But possibilities like?"

"Like, say the notes were used as bait by someone who wants to trap us. If we're surrounded, or attacked, we could use a knife or a screwdriver."

I shook my head, knowing she was right. There was a huge chance we were being lured into something unfortunate.

I honestly didn't know if I was supposed to be scared of the dangers, nervous of who we're going to meet, or excited for the information I would get.

I went upstairs to get the blades from the bathroom and screwdivers from the storeroom. Handing one to each of them, I placed my own tools in my pocket. A blade, a screwdiver, a knife.

I hope we don't end up using these against somene, I thought, as we left the house.

It was a little windy today. I couldn't help but feel nervous. The uncertainty of all this gave me the creeps. I was following instructions from an unknown person who stuck random notes in my bathroom and bedroom, and now here we are, armed with kitchen knives, going on an eternal mission to a sweets shop where I was once slapped.

It was a small walk. A neighbour of mine was walking his dog. The sprinklers of another garden turned on.

"We need to be cautious," I told Heather and Anna. "Expect anything to happen. We don't know who we're going to meet."

"You're right," Anna agreed.

My insides were burning with curiosity. I would find out about my parents now. And about the mysterious wall. Finally. It was time to get some answers.