24: Screwed

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I must agree with Roy; our problem is as complicated as it is.

These past four days, Sandra rarely stays in the cave. She often wanders God knows where, sometimes alone, sometimes dragging Arsy along. Ever since the day when Arsy reminded her to care about her mom as well, her bitterness to Arsy gradually fades. The change happens likewise, however.

Today, I find a receipt near her mattress while sweeping the cave's floor. Since Roy and everyone else is out, except for Mrs. Sybil, Miro, Xin-Yo, and Mrs. Alexa, I keep it in my pocket. Roy might be able to help me read it once he comes back from the recruitment.

Some of the days, usually when the recruitment team returns before dark, Roy, Xin-Yo, and I spend our time doing researches about Ivon Fray, Beatrix Kamal, and The Office's new moves which might not reach the news.

"They're rising the tax," Roy says this late Thursday night, his forehead wrinkling with tension. "What timing. One of our recruits just reported a smuggled cargo at the harbor, labeled with a dream-catcher. Perhaps The Office uses our tax to buy it..."

"What is a dream-catcher, Lin-Roy?" Xin-Yo perches on his shoulder.

"Only a few know this"—Roy mouths lowly—"but sometimes Yume Corporation marks their cargo with a dream-catcher. Yume means 'dream' in a language. Dream and dream-catcher, get it?"

"But why hide it then? What's inside the cargo?"

What's wrong with people nowadays? Why are they so paranoid for small details like these? Like, who else cares about them besides us?

"Well, Allice." Roy flicks his witch-like nails on my forehead. "Seems they already suspected our meddling in their plot. They're cautious. But my attempts to revisit Yume's website until my eyes grow sore each day end well. Their private logo is so faint at the website's background." While he grins, mischievous star glints in his eyes.

"Uh, by the way, I forgot to tell you this, but when I fell into the river, it was oddly calm. Like, you remember what a storm it was." I grit my teeth at the memory of the coldness. "And there was a lever down there. Also, shortly before we visited the owner-less treehouse, Beatrix Kamal seemed to mess up with something down the river..."

Xin-Yo explodes with mechanical whirs as it heads out of the cave, straight to the river, where the ripples mirror the sunlight. Roy and I stumble behind, panting and grunting.

"You better have a good idea." Roy stretches his arms to the air, emitting cringe-worthy cracks from his crooks. The skin under his eyes is a shade darker. How many days has he exchanged his sleep for researches?

I snap my attention back to Xin-Yo, whose arm travels down the river. "Xin-Yo finds it, Lin-Roy. It's stuck at the bottom. Should Xin-Yo lift it?"

"No, Xin-Yo, we aren't here to—" Roy still pinches the alley above his nose when a gentle creak forces his eyes to shoot open. "What are you doing?"

The river's speed quickens without warning. The water clashes against the stones with furious waves. They yank Xin-Yo's dipped arm, tugging it with the flow. Roy and I grab each of its legs while pinning ours to the ant hills on the ground.

It's like the river is upset after being revived from a deep sleep.

"Allice, hold on to Xin-Yo, I'll return the lever." Roy scampers to the river, his arm darting to the bottom. His knees sink on the dirt, forming another hill, while his closed eyes and gritted teeth remain on his face.

Red friction streaks across my palms before the river blasts into a halt and my grip on Xin-Yo's legs backfires to my face, sending both of us tumbling back.

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