‘Cool,’ she said, faking it, too.
Their footsteps were nearly silent on the linoleum floor and they were halfway down the long corridor before Sylvain spoke.
‘There was something I wanted to say earlier and I didn’t have time.’
‘OK…’
‘I wish…’ When he hesitated, she glanced up at him curiously – it wasn’t like Sylvain to be unsure of himself. ‘I wish you had come to me instead of… when you ran away.’
Too tired to dodge the subject, Allie sighed. It was all anyone wanted to talk about anyway.
‘I guess I should have. But I thought I had to do it on my own. I wanted to make something happen.’ They’d reached the foot of the staircase and she turned to look up at him. ‘Can you understand that? Does it sound crazy?’
‘I can understand why you felt that way.’ He was choosing his words carefully. ‘But I think you should have thought it through. You could have come to me. I would have told you the truth.’
‘Would you?’ she asked with a touch of bitterness. ‘Or would you have gone to Isabelle and told her what I was planning? To protect me.’
‘Have I ever done anything like that?’ He held her gaze and Allie realised that he hadn’t. Not once.
‘No,’ she said slowly. ‘I guess not.’
His eyes still held hers, as if he was waiting for her to understand something – to figure something out. Or as if he had more to say.
They were on the stairs now and as Allie reached for the banister her hand brushed his accidentally. She felt that touch like a shock, and jerked her hand away.
‘Sorry,’ she said, as heat rushed to her face.
‘For what? For touching me? It’s allowed, you know…’
His voice was gentle, teasing, but Allie wasn’t ready for this. She hurried up the stairs.
‘What is it, Allie?’ They’d reached the ground floor now, and his voice echoed in the grand hallway. ‘We’ve touched more than hands, you know.’
Instantly his words summoned images of that night. Snow falling. His lips warm against hers. Her fingers tangled in his hair.
She shook her head as if that could clear it all away.
‘We can’t,’ she said. ‘I can’t.’
‘Why not?’ The vulnerability in his expression as he looked at her then made her heart flip. ‘You know I like you. And I thought you liked me. But suddenly it’s over and you won’t even talk to me.’ When she didn’t speak he took a step closer. ‘You can’t lock yourself away for ever because of what happened, Allie. You have to keep living.’
‘Gabe already tried to kill you once because of me, Sylvain,’ she said. ‘That’s enough. No more. No one else dies because of me.’
He looked stunned. ‘Is that what this is all about? You’re trying to protect me from Gabe and Nathaniel?’ He held up his hands, trying to make her look at him. ‘Allie, I am not Jo.’
‘I know that,’ she snapped. ‘But don’t you get it? Someone in this building helped to kill Jo. And I’ve got to find out who that is and make sure they get what they deserve. And I don’t want you to get hurt and mess everything up and… and… distract me.’
His eyes blazed. ‘So you’re going to do this on your own, and I’m nothing more than a distraction?’ He raked his fingers through his hair. ‘You’re still running away, Allie. You just don’t realise it.’
With that, he stalked off, leaving her standing alone.
All the way up to the girls’ dorm wing, Allie kept going over the conversation in her mind, trying to find a way to make it less horrible.
The worst part was that Sylvain was right in a way – she was trying to do this on her own. She was afraid to let him – or anyone else – help. When he was around things got confusing and it was hard to focus. They’d just end up kissing again and there could be no kissing until the spy was identified. It just couldn’t happen.
Besides she hadn’t let go of Carter yet – not completely. After they’d talked this morning, some fragment of her heart hoped it was all a horrible mistake and they could find a way to make things work again.
Although every time she saw him with Jules that became a little less possible.
As she walked down the long corridor, her rubber-soled shoes squeaking faintly on the whitewashed floor, she sighed.
What a mess.
In her room, she dropped her bag with a thud. The room felt stuffy and she walked to the window, leaning across her desk to reach the latch. It swung open like a shutter, letting in a blast of cold, fresh air.
Allie closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, trying to clear her head.
The moon was full – a bright spotlight in the sky illuminating the grounds with a wash of blue light. Still, even with its helpful glow, were it not for her Night School training she probably wouldn’t have noticed the flicker of movement below her, it happened so quickly.
Frowning, she scanned the lawn two storeys below for a fox or a night bird.
Then she froze, fingers tight against the window frame. Because what she saw was a man, running into the trees.
TEN
She couldn’t seem to catch her breath. Her chest was suddenly too small for her lungs.
Shoving things off the desk with a reckless sweep of her arm, she climbed up on top of it to try and get a better look through the window. But he’d disappeared completely.
For a second she stayed still, gripping the window frame. Then she tore across the room and out of the door.
Weariness forgotten, she pounded down two flights of stairs and along the wide, empty grand hallway to the front door, where she fumbled with the complicated old locking system, fingers numb with anxiety and excitement until, with an almighty clang, the lock finally gave and she was outside.
Leaving the front door open behind her she hurtled down the front steps. Her knee protested but she ignored its complaints and sped across the grass.
She wasn’t afraid. She was going to catch that man. And she was going to make him suffer.
The moonlight lit up the grounds like a stage – silvering the grass and illuminating the trees. Allie made no effort to hide herself or to move quietly. This wasn’t about stealth – it was about speed.
She’d made it across the lawn to the tree line, the spot where she’d last seen him, when her muscles – exhausted from the earlier training – began to give. She reeled drunkenly into the woods.
It was darker here – the moonlight couldn’t penetrate through the canopy of pine branches. Slowing her steps, she suddenly realised she had no idea where to go – she didn’t know which direction he’d taken after entering the forest.
Instinct led her to the chapel footpath where she sped up again, peering into the shadows. She stopped to listen, hoping to hear footsteps, breaking branches. But she could hear nothing except her own ragged breathing; her pounding heart.
I lost him.
Despairing, she bent over, resting her hands on her knees and taking shallow breaths. When she raised her head again, she noticed movement ahead – it was just a flitting shadow. But it didn’t seem right.
‘Stop!’ She shouted the word at the top of her lungs, bursting into a run. The shadow moved – turning towards her – and as she grew nearer it became a man, dressed all in black.
Only then did Allie realise she didn’t have a weapon. Desperate, she looked around for a long stick, a large rock – anything she could use. She grabbed a twig – too small and fragile to be of use – but now the man was coming towards her, fast.
‘I said stop!’ she bellowed… but then her voice trailed off.