Page 16 of Outcast’s Return

“Yeah.”

We fell into silence. I didn’t know what else to say. I wasn’t a big talker. I liked to do things.

And no one besides Clement and Baptiste had spoken to me as much as Jolie had. And never in the kind of one-on-one way she was conducting.

“You still can’t sleep?” she gently asked.

I slowly nodded in reply.

“I can’t get them out of my head.”

“Oh.”

“I have Clement and Baptiste, but sometimes... at night... I can feel very alone.”

Jolie’s lips tightened.

“You’re not alone. I’m here.”

There was another long pause. Those words slowly sank in.

Usually, in everyday life, I was so propelled by hate. Hate for the Masked Killer. Hate for the people who only thought of me as a pitiful orphan. Hate for their apparent disregard of my parents’ death. But being there, with Jolie, all that hatred left me.

I should’ve hated how quickly she’d calmed me, how much relief I had felt seeing her face. I should’ve hated how there had been some part of me waiting to see her again. I should’ve hated how much I needed these secretive, stolen moments with her.

But I didn’t.

“No,” I whispered. “I guess I’m not alone with you.”

Jolie lifted herself out of the chair and pulled out a piece of paper and a pen from a kitchen drawer. I watched her write, and then she handed it over to me. Scribbled on the paper was an email address. Her email address. The paper trembled in her hand as she offered it.

I don’t know why, but I was surprised how nervous she seemed.

“Well, if you ever feel alone again, write to me,” she said softly. “Doesn’t matter when. I’ll get back to you. Always.”

I took the piece of paper.

Jolie turned around, threw her sandwich in the trash, and walked out of the kitchen.

When she was gone, I folded the paper and held on to it tight.

5

FABIEN

I wasn’t planning to – I told myself I wouldn’t dare – but when the boys and I got back to Witley Academy, I started to email Jolie.

It was a single message at first, a quick note merely to confirm I had made it back to school. I was in between essays in the computer lab at the Academy. It really wasn’t meant to be anything, but my heart pounded when I let it go.

She replied within the hour.

Then I replied to her reply.

Then she replied to my reply.

And, very soon, I was emailing Jolie Auclair every single day.

We didn’t stop. I knew it was wrong. I knew it was against Clement’s rule. Guilt hit me like a runaway train every time my cursor hovered over send. But she was so easy to talk to.