Counterfeit ✓

Chapter 22

AFTER THE TOUR with Thomas, Mila said goodbye and headed back to her tree house. She needed time to think it all over without a single person bothering her. Before she locked herself away, she had stopped by the headquarters and taken Oliver's map.

She leaned in, her heart pounding. What if she could finally manage to understand his scribbles? What if she could analyze the theories and come up with a conclusion? Mila fidgeted to make time move faster, then she checked the map's bottom.

Her foot jittered against the wooden floor. Oliver hadn't noted new theories, so Mila tore a paper from the notebook and wrote 'dome', 'mutilated wolves,' and 'stone'.

Imagining her freedom, Mila brainstormed several theories. She wondered if Stephen was behind it all or even some third party they didn't even know about yet.

A wide grin appeared on her face. She couldn't believe that she hadn't thought it through earlier on. Every single clue was directed to the involvement of a third party. Smiling, Mila wrote her theory in bold letters on the map's backside.

Adrenaline rushed through her body. As of now, she couldn't wait to share her findings with Oliver. She, however, knew she had to come up with a plan to discover the third party and mostly the signals that there was another one in this forest.

Before she continued with her brainstorming, she sipped from her water and scratched the back of her neck. A couple of hours ago, Mila wanted to give up, and now a sparkle of hope ignited again. Her eyes flickered as she took the pen.

Thomas, however, didn't give her time to solve the puzzle. He waltzed into her treehouse, plopped down on the bench, and kicked off his shoes as if he lived there too.

Mila clenched her jaw. He was a friend, yes, but it didn't give him the right to burst into her life without even knocking on the door. With a grimace, she finger-tapped the tabletop.

"I'm busy."

"I see."

Her smile slipped. Didn't he understand how to take a hint? Mila rubbed her brow to ward off the upcoming headache. She folded the map, her neck stiffening.

"I'm trying to figure out how to find a way out."

"Shouldn't Oliver help with it?"

Mila pressed her lips in a white slash. She, of course, knew Oliver had to help her. But she just wanted to come up with theories instead of wasting time. Right now, he didn't have the health to figure it all out.

Her gaze flicked upward. "He's injured. I wanted to come up with something already."

"You can share it with me."

She splayed her hands out wide to stretch, then relaxed them. As much as she appreciated the help of Thomas, he simply wasn't Oliver who stood on the same page.

Running her hand through her blonde hair, she said, "I appreciate your offer."

Thomas burst out in spontaneous laughter. "But you aren't interested in it." He stood up. "I know when I'm too much, Mila. Don't worry."

He patted her on the shoulder before leaving the treehouse. Sighing, Mila opened the map again and spread it on the table. She stared at her notes, wondering if she could ever figure out if there was a third party.

Her stomach churned. What if she was steering in the wrong direction? She couldn't simply leave Stephen out of the possibility. She bounced a curled knuckle against her mouth, then she underlined his name.

Outside, commotion sounded. People cheered. Others screamed. Mila touched the base of her neck as she wondered what was happening. Sliding the map to the side, she opened her front door where Thomas stood.