Agent Reptilian: Exploiting Gold|editing

Chapter seventeen: "We'll figure it out."

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The microwave, perched on top of the fridge rang loudly, alerting that the food was warmed up. Nix climbed onto one of the dining table chairs and yanked the tiny, fragile door open, pulling out the bowl of milk, and walked towards me, setting it on the table. I leaned my head closer to the bowl, analyzing the milk that looked...thick. Or at least thicker than it's supposed to.

The last meal we had eaten was on the airplane. Since the past two weeks we had arrived here, we'd been consuming water and sodas mostly to keep ourselves cool. Most days there was a great deal of sunshine, sometimes too much to the point we'd turn the fans on for a bit and drink cool liquids. While I did think about Secretum, what Austin was doing, who Adams was lecturing, how the cure Marisa's team were working on was coming along, being in Miami kind of felt like...like home.

Nix walked back into the tiny kitchen, and used her fingernails to pull out one of the drawers by gripping the edge of the cabinet face (since one half of the handle was loosely screwed into place while the other was just hanging there with a missing screw).

The drawer opened and the cutlery clanged loudly as they collided with each other due to Nix's lack of gentleness towards the rather fragile piece of furniture.

In fact, many of the furniture pieces in this house were barely hanging by a thread.

Twice I had opened the door to the fridge which had completely fallen off its hinges, spilling all the contents from the milk carton sitting on the side and along with that, cracking the plastic shelves lined inside. I had received at least an hour long lecture from Mademoiselle Picket following the event.

Nix walked over to me and tossed a spoon in my bowl which spent droplets of milk flying on my face and around the table, then she grabbed a box of some cornflakes and placed it on the table. My hands reached into the paper thin cereal box, pulling out the plastic bag which rustled loudly. I loosened my grip on the bag as I heard some of the cereal on the bottom of the bag lightly crunching. Oops.

I glumly stared at the cornflakes sitting inside which were slowly absorbing the milk and sinking into the bottom of the bowl. I took a bite out of it and suppressed the urge to gag. I imagined a python being forced to eat cornflakes to survive. It'd probably eat itself from desperation.

I heard the main door shut loudly and footsteps growing louder as Nix re-entered the kitchen. She held up the weekly newspaper that she waved at me and set down on the dining table. I leaned forward and grabbed the paper.

"Anymore old ladies slipping on squashes?" Nix asked and I snorted as I scanned the pages, briefly glancing at the big titles.

"I guess we'll find out." I flipped the pages and stopped once I reached the crime section.

I cleared my throat. "'Florida woman under the alias..." I squinted to make sure I was reading it correctly, "'Katy Perry' arrested and convicted for selling slippers that were rubbed with butter, causing a young man to end up in the ICU'. Next one, 'Local child pulls a reverse kidnapping as the young boy who had been snatched into an ice cream truck managed to get ahold of the keys and began to drive away'." I rubbed the temples of my forehead. I was beginning to think that perhaps we had accidentally subscribed to The Onion then the actual local news.

"Es-tu prête Mademoiselle Brooks?" Are your ready? I averted my gaze from the newspaper to find Mademoiselle Picket waltzing into the kitchen and loudly hissing as she laid her beady eyes on me.

"Ouais." Yes. I replied back without making eye contact with her and instead stared at the coffee brown dining table I was seated at. The thin scratches all over it and dull paint on it indicated it must be at least forty to fifty years old. This place was an absolute dump. I hated it.