The flamingo said nothing, and hardly acknowledged the doctor’s presence, its long neck swirling over its body.
“What’s wrong with getting your head bumped into a ball?” Dr. Truckle asked him. “Wouldn’t you do that in the name of Britain?”
The flamingo’s head dipped lower. It looked ashamed to the doctor.
“Should I assume you’re an immigrant?” Dr. Truckle rubbed his chin. “Do you even have papers?”
Surprisingly, the flamingo shook its head.
“So you understand me?” Dr. Truckle approached the cage. “Look, we’re both in the mud here, fella,” he whispered. “You don’t let the Queen bang your small, beautiful head into a ball, I get fired. But if you do, I keep my job. You see, in both cases, no one really cares about you.”
The flamingo padded away from the doctor, who suddenly realized the absurdity of the situation—let alone talking to an animal. “So what am I going to do now?”
Tom stared at the invitation in his hand, and wondered what was going on. A thought occurred to him: what if he managed to use the invitation to sneak into the Event?
He was really curious about it.
He flipped the invitation, only to realize a list of the rest of guests had been written on the back.
Now Tom was really going to lose it.
What?
The names on the list were as shocking as the name in front. Tom was truly losing it, oblivious to what was going on. He glanced at the flamingo again. “Do you know what this Event is about?”
The flamingo nodded.
Chapter 23
Downstairs, Alice Wonder's house, 7 Folly Bridge, Oxford, 11:05 a.m.
Edith doesn't stab me. She screams. She sounds as if she’s choking all of a sudden, while Lorina looks appalled again.
I turn around. It’s the Pillar, choking Edith with his hookah.
“Such a fantabulous family you have, Alice,” he says, pulling the hose tighter around Edith. He doesn’t wait for my reaction, as he pulls Edith’s knife and hurls it over my shoulder toward Lorina. “No more games, Barbie doll, or I choke your sis to death.”
I turn and see Lorina has ducked the knife. She straightens up again. “You?” She frowns.
At first I think she is talking to me. Then I think there is a third party in the room—my mother, maybe? But then I realize it’s the Pillar Lorina is talking to.
“You know each other?” I ask, not knowing what to make of it.
But then the Hatter’s phone buzzes in my pocket. Another message: Tick tock. Tick tock. Is it already twelve o’clock? Wait for me to send you the next clue.
I wait for the rest of message, but nothing comes.
“Let’s go, Alice.” The Pillar drops the unconscious Edith, holding his phone up. “I’ll try to call Inspector Dormouse to arrest your sisters.”
“You didn’t answer me,” I say. “How do you know my sisters?”
But none of them answer me. I see the Pillar staring right into Lorina’s eyes. It’s that piercing look he is capable of. Lorina stares back in silence. Somewhere between those two lies another greater secret I don’t know of.
“I saw them visiting you week after week,” the Pillar replies.
I am not convinced. But Lorina doesn’t object or comment. She looks scared of the Pillar.
“Let’s get out of this circus.” The Pillar picks up my umbrella from the floor.
Dazzled, I comply and walk out with him. If I don’t, Lorina might try to kill me again—whatever the reason is. I will deal with my sisters later.
“Alice!” Lorina says from behind. “You don’t know what you’re doing.” Her voice is concerned, but not about me. Something else bothers her. “This man you’re walking with is using you. Stay away from him.”
“Coming from my sister who just tried to kill me?” I say, fighting the tears, and not looking back.
Lorina doesn’t comment. And I can’t wait to walk out of the house where I was supposedly raised. All I know is that nothing has really changed since the last time I was outside my cell. The world is still mad. Nothing makes sense. And the only thing that keeps me going again is wanting to stop this bomb at all costs.
Chapter 24
George and Danver Ice Cream Cafe, 94 St. Aldates, Oxford, near Alice’s Shop and Oxford University
Half an hour later, the Pillar arrives at our table with a tray of food and tea. We’re sitting at George and Danver Ice Cream Cafe on the same street that leads to Oxford University, a small walk from the famous Alice’s Shop. The sun in the sky is feebly battling through the foggy day. I wish it would make it through, as I am unable to take the dimness of this mind-boggling and emotional day anymore.