Page 108 of The Hidden Note

An eye mask hangs off the edge of the bed. Normally, when I pull an all-nighter, I sleep in until hunger wakes me. Then I wander down to the hospital cafeteria to see what they have on the menu.

But while my body is tired, my mind is racing.

It’s a new day and I didn’t die in my sleep. Which means I have a chance to look up Finn’s friends from last night. I’ve definitely seen those men somewhere before.

Wrapping myself in the blanket, I tiptoe barefoot across the room to my desk. My computer chair snuggles me like a warm hug.

As I’m logging into the hospital’s system, I hear a buzzing sound. Glancing across to the window, I smile when I see the cleaning drone.

“Hi, Sparky.” I wiggle my fingers at the object outside. The flying plastic tripod has spray jets attached to it, and when it sprays, my view of the city turns blurry. But I don’t want the distraction right now.

Typing quickly, I instruct Sparky to come back another time.

Sparky turns and obediently whirs to someone else’s room.

Focused, I log into the hospital’s surveillance system and drag the timeline back to around three a.m. this morning. With a few clicks, the footage for the parking lot, the front lobby, and the elevators expand before me.

I keep an eye on the monitors while mindlessly rummaging through my snack drawer. Plastic crinkles in my hand. I pop the bag and reach inside when my nose scrunches. What is thatsmell?

Looking down, I let out a squawk of dismay. “Plantain chips?” I read the name on the package and stare at the golden-yellow discs inside.

I don’t even know what a plantain is.

Panicked, I wrench my snack drawer open fully. This drawer is where I keep my secret stash. All the chocolate bars, candy, chips, and cookies that I tucked away for when I need an energy boost are mysteriously gone.

Peanuts, cashew nuts, almond nuts, home-made granola bars, gluten-free banana and plantain chips, and bags of unbuttered popcorn fill the space.

Horror consumes me and I push away from the desk. “No, no, this can’t be happening.”

Like a soldier seeing her comrades go down on the battlefield, my eyes shoot to the stash of energy drinks that I keep tucked away under the desk.

It’s gone too.

Even worse, it’s been replaced by a case of red tomato juice. Do people drink tomatoes? Voluntarily?

“You’re up?” a voice says with a hint of surprise.

I switch off the monitor and whirl around. A tall man steps into my room. I recognize him as one of the men from last night. He’s tan and broad-shouldered like Finn with a small face, a pointy chin, and dark eyes. This morning, his suit is completely dry—unlike last night.

I spring to my feet. The knife Finn gave me is still in my pocket. If I reach for it…

At that moment, I notice the case of pomegranate juice in his arms. I lift an accusing finger instead. “You! You didthis!” I jab at the tomato juice.

He dips his chin in the affirmative.

I stalk forward, forgetting that—like Finn, he’s twice my size and can fight. “Who gave you therightto touch my stuff?”

“It was a request fromoya—” He stops himself, and his eyebrows crease as he sounds out the name, “Finn.”

“Finn, did this?” My left eye starts twitching. I stomp back to the computer desk, pick up my phone, and stab Finn’s number.

The phone rings.

Since I’ve known him, Finn Cross does not answer my calls, but I amfullyprepared to blow up his phone today.

To my surprise, he answers before the second ring.

His stern voice fills my ears. “I thought you’d sleep in.”