Emily eventually falls asleep on the couch with her head in my lap, but her sleep is fitful, and she moves around a lot. I can't shake the feeling that she's right - about everything. There's something off about Brenda, and she hasn't bothered to answer any of the questions Emily asked. Why is that?
"Is she all right?" Marjorie crouches next to the couch and nods at Emily.
"She's scared."
Marjorie snorts. "Aren't we all?"
I nod. "What's Tom's plan? How long are we going to just sit here?" Brenda had retired to her room about forty-five minutes ago, and I'm itching to get out of here and back to the beach. Not that I like the thought of hiking through the jungle in the dark.
She shrugs. "I don't know. He hasn't told me anything."
"Brenda has to be sleeping by now, don't you think?" I glance in the direction of the bedroom. There's no lights on. No movement or sounds. "We can slip out now without her knowing."