“You have to get me back to Peter. Hook kidnapped me, and he’s going to kill me.”
His dark brows draw together. “I don’t think—”
“Please! I’m supposed to be on the island.” I shake my head. “No. I’m supposed to be grading composition papers, but that’s neither here nor there at this point.”
“I’m sorry, Moira. I think you’re confused.” He squeezes my hand. “I’ll get Ed and James.”
“Wait!” I finally make a grab for him and snag his fingers. “Hook will kill me. Please! Don’t let him kill me.”
“You shouldn’t get worked up like this. Not in your condition. Please, relax. You’re safe here.”
“I’m not safe anywhere if Hook’s nearby.” I glance at the door. “Is he?”
He gently removes my fingers from his and pats the back of my hand. “Get some more rest. I’ll have a talk with James, all right?”
I can see I’m not going to get anywhere with him. He’s looking at me like I’m spouting total nonsense. I may as well go along with him … For now. “Okay. That’d be great.”
He gives me a slightly strained smile, one that tells me he’s not entirely convinced. “Rest. It’s what you need right now. I’ll talk with James and have the cook bring you some foods that will be easy on your stomach.”
“Thank you.” I settle back on my pillow and close my eyes.
Once he’s gone, the door shut behind him, I start looking around. There has to be a way out of this room. A flapping sound draws my gaze back to the window as the seagull returns to its perch. This time it’s not laughing, just eyeing me with curiosity.
If it can come and go through the window, then so can I. I only hope I’m not on a high floor. But Huran is right about one thing—I need to rest. There’s no way I’m making any great escape in this state.
I take Huran’s advice, biding my time in bed as sleep comes and goes.
When a knock comes on the door, I try to say, “come in” but my throat has gone dry again.
The door opens anyway, and a young woman walks in. She’s wearing a black corset and white shirt that barely covers her ample cleavage. A cutlass hangs at her side, her long black hair is swept back in a high ponytail, and I swear she looks like a sexy cosplay pirate.
“You’re awake.” She slides a tray onto the bedside table. “Let’s have a look at the woman who’s got the whole cay in an uproar.” Bending down, she grabs me under my arms and lifts me into a sitting position.
My back pops, and I didn’t realize how much I needed a change until I’m settling back against the pillows, relief in my spine.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“Here.” She gives me some water, and I reach up with a shaking hand to hold the cup that seems to be fashioned from a coconut shell. I grip it shakily, but she lets it go so I can hold it by myself. Progress.
When I’m done, I almost drop it, but she takes it and places it beside me, then motions toward the tray. “I made some simple things for you. Huran said you’re positively peaky, and I’d say he’s right.” She gives me a long look, then grabs something from the tray. “Let’s start with rice. Nothing fancy.” She spoons some for me and places it to my lips.
I’m not particularly hungry, my stomach feeling akin to a dried-up old prune, but I need to get stronger. Besides, I should be grateful for real food. Those neverberries weren’t cutting it, apparently.
I take a small bite, a few grains of rice on my tongue that she helps me wash down with water.
“Good start. Let’s keep going.” She spoons me some more, my mouth finally loosening up as I chew. “I’m Widow, by the way.”
“Moira.” It comes out froggy.
“Nice to make your acquaintance. Here.” She spoons some more into my mouth, a decent amount this time. I chew, feeling accomplished. Damn, I must’ve been seriously messed up if chewing does it for me.
I shake my head when she offers me another spoonful.
“How about some pudding? I made it from Crabapple’s milk. She’s a sassy heifer, but her milk is sweet as pie.” She spoons some pudding to my mouth.
Generally, I’m not a pudding fan, but with a description like that, how can I say no? I take some of it and am pleasantly surprised by its taste. A little vanilla, a little brown sugar, a lot creamy—this is definitely not a run-of-the-mill Snack Pack.
“Good, right?” She gives me another spoonful, then another.