The Doll Garden

Thirteen

"Your breakfast is on the house." A plate stacked with a Belgian waffle, scrambled eggs with cheddar cheese, and two small sausage links was placed down in front of me. Isaiah slid into the booth across from me with his own plate.

"What? Oh, she shouldn't have..." I laughed.

"She loves you. You know that." Isaiah grinned.

I suppose he was right. His mother never hid her approval of me. She was probably secretly hoping we got back together soon. I wasn't against the idea of dating Isaiah again. But Isaiah knew, like I knew, I couldn't afford to jump back into a relationship right now. Not with an investigation threatening to tear what was left of my family apart, especially.

I'd given relationships a try one year after I started university in New York, only to discover my girlfriend was leaving me for someone else. I didn't hate her for it. A little depressed, but I realized it was bound to happen. I was emotionally unstable. Isaiah had always been my most intimate emotional support. No one was going to fill that void for a while.

"So, how did you escape your father's clutches to meet with me here? You told me he's been a little more watchful than usual." Isaiah picked at his food with a silver knife and fork. He cut into his French toast, gazing up at me through his long lashes as I poured syrup onto my waffle.

"We are eating in your mother's diner at nine-thirty in the morning, aren't we?" I shrugged.

He thought about it for a moment, then nodded. "Good point."

"Yep," I said, popping the p.

"Well, just for the record, if I didn't know how intrusive your father can be, I would have been wondering why you're quote-unquote sneaking around at your age."

I scoffed. "Ha! Tell me about it. Anyway, I've got a few updates for you."

"Okay. Lay 'em on me." He stuffed a thick piece of French toast into his mouth.

"For starters—don't know if you've heard or not—but rat poison might be the cause of death."

"Oh yeah, I've heard about that alright. Really strange stuff," he said.

"Right. And I ran into Tahlia last night. Just before dinner."

Isaiah's eyebrows shot up in curiosity. "Did you ask her about the dolls?" I sighed and stabbed into my eggs with a fork. His eyebrows were no longer raised. They drooped together and a questioning look supported them.

I released a small sigh. "Well, that's the thing... I tried. She was standing alone. Outside in the back. I thought I had the perfect opportunity! But she escaped."

"What do you mean?" he asked, frowning.

"I mean, I brought up the memory that I told you about. The one where she freaked out when Mira and I entered the porcelain room that day. I couldn't get a direct answer out of her. She saw Henry and Reiner walk into the kitchen and used them as a reason to leave."

"Seriously? That's ... weird." Isaiah's eyes bounced around as if he was thinking.

"I know right!" I noticed a few of the odd stares people were sending us around the diner and lowered my voice, leaning in closer over the table. "I'm telling you, she ran like hell, Isaiah."

"Hmph." He grunted. "How long has it been since the bodies were found?"

"Today makes twenty-three days, exactly," I commented.

"Wow, you've seriously been keeping count. What's that? Three weeks and some change?"

"Yeah... Must be the number compulsion my therapist told me about." My eyes glossed over the big glass window beside us.