Chapter 935 You Really Are Hopeless, Wolfie

• Wolfie eyed the window. Two glass panes, locked together by a rusty old latch. A quick twist and—snap—the latch crumbled in his hand.
• He pushed the panes apart and leaned out. Below, stacked against the wall, was a massive pile of corn stalks over six feet high. Tall enough to cushion a fall. The window was about the same height from the top of the heap. If he jumped onto the pile, he figured he'd land fine. No risk of breaking anything. Climbing down after that would be a piece of cake.
• Now came the harder part.