𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐃𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒, 𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐬

FIFTY-NINE| trapped in the middle of the ocean

WHEN Eden woke up, it was to the sound of a boat horn. 

Mind fuzzy, the girl slowly opened her eyes. She's met with a naturally lit room, sunlight pouring in through the small window across from her. The smell of salt water fills her nose, and her ears are quick to catch the familiar sound of waves lapping against metal and hulls. 

And, of course, a boat horn. 

The fuck? 

Eden dazedly sat up, eyes squinting as she scanned the perimeter of the room. She was laying upon a narrow bunk, which sat connected to a pale white wall. In front of her was a small dresser with a plate of food and a cup of orange juice on top of it. Below was a duffel bag—a duffel bag she used to use for sleepovers when she'd been younger to pack belongings.

She wasn't in the Chateau; She wasn't in her bedroom; she wasn't in the Cameron estate. 

Where the fuck was she? 

Eden tries to recall the previous night, but everything blends together slightly—John B. got bit by a gator, they'd found the cross, Pope was allergic to wasps, they went to Ricky's, they lost Kiara to her parents, they went to the Cameron estate, she pretended to be JJ's girlfriend, she went into the mansion......she was drugged. 

"No." Eden breathes.

Everything seemed to click in the Bexley's mind, despite the drug that still lingered in her system. She remembers hugging her mother, she remembers the needle going inside her neck, she remembers what Isla had said. 

We'll be out of Kildare.

"No, no, no." Eden quickly throws her feet off of the narrow bunk, not even bothering to cringe at the soreness in her muscles as she stumbles over towards the porthole at the edge of whatever room she was in, hands clasping the metal perimeter of the window as her eyes widen.

Staring out, she saw nothing but the ocean.  

Her heart sinks in her chest as she sees nothing but the sea for miles, vast blue waters taking up every inch of her sight. Her body grows nauseous staring down at the open sea—Eden wasn't sea sick, she was simply sick at the thought of her situation—and she quickly steps backwards, mind still a rush of panics and confusion.

She was on a boat in the middle of the ocean.

She'd been put without a say on a boat to who knows where.

Her mother had kidnapped her.

"What the fuck." Eden spits, backing up towards the small dresser that sat across her bed. She kneels down to unzip the duffel bag below, hands shuffling through the items in the bag—it was certainly packed in a rush, but there was indeed different clothing items, toiletries, and items of hers within it, as if she were staying.

This wasn't happening—this couldn't be happening. How the hell could she be on a boat halfway to who knows where when her friends were depending on her help to get the Cross of Santo Domingo? 

Her heart sinks even further at the thought of John B, JJ, and Pope. She'd left them in the Cameron's yard, thinking she'd be out with Sarah. Had they watched her get dragged to the car? Had they tried to help her? Did they know where she was? 

Sarah. Where was she? There was a good chance that Sarah—who Eden recalls to have been knocked out—was currently in the same position, confused and panicked on why she was on a boat in the middle of nowhere, but what if she wasn't?