Page 117 of Wrapped in Their Arms

I’d rather do this a hundred times than go through another night like last night.Itwas too much—just too, too much.

She moved into the adjoining bathroom, holding her breath as she stepped over yet another pile of bones on the cracked tile floor.

Dios, what does he do—lie in the tub and eat?Mysterymeat and bath time, is that it?

She eyed the ring of grime around the interior of the enormous tub.Thewater line was marked by a yellow-brown scum streaked with flecks of black and something that looked like hair or fur.Herstomach churned as she knelt beside it and opened the cabinet underneath the sink to grab the cleaning solution.

She froze.

Something was different this time.Pushedbehind the squat jug of tub cleaner was a tall, dark blue bottle she hadn’t seen before.

Frowning,Noellereached in and tugged it forward.Thelabel was written in blocky alien script, but thankfully the translation bacteria she’d taken on theKindredMotherShipallowed her to read it.

“SleepAid,”the bottle said.

Curious,Noelleturned the bottle around and read the warning on the back.

“Warning—take one only.Donot combine with alcohol—may cause adverse effects.”

Her heart gave a little thump.

Adverse effects?Whatdoes that mean?How“adverse” are we talking about?

The bottle was bigger than any medicine container she’d ever seen—nearly twice the size of a mason jar.Sheunscrewed the lid and tilted it to peek inside.

Big, chalky pink tablets tumbled against each other like extra-large jawbreakers.Eachpill was as big as the palm of her hand.Herfingers trembled as she reached in and plucked two out, then quickly tucked them into the deep pockets of her borrowed dress.

Just in case,she told herself.Maybewe can use these…Maybethey’ll come in handy.Ifwe can get them intoThuneorCookie’sfood somehow?—

She didn’t finish the thought.Shewas afraid to hope too much.

The tub still needed cleaning, and she used the cleanser, scrubbing as best she could, trying not to gag as the smell of mildew and meat mingled in the air.

More bones littered the bottom—some cracked, some gnawed.Oneof them, long and curved, caught her eye.

She picked it up carefully.

It was smooth…heavy.

And shapedexactlylike a human femur.

Noelle’s breath caught in her throat.

No.Noway.Itcan’t be.

She swallowed hard and forced herself to dismiss the thought.

Probably from some other humanoid species…probably just looks familiar.

But her gut told her otherwise.

She carried the bone to the kitchen to toss it in the “bone barrel” where all the uneaten scraps went.Shehalf-expected to findCookiewaiting for her—but theTrolloxchef was nowhere in sight.

And the heavy, metal door to the meat locker was right there…unattended…forbidden.

Noelle’s heart began to pound.

This is the only chance you’re going to get,she thought.Youhave to know.Youhave to see for yourself.