Chapter 33
When I spot Cecil, he is climbing a wall.
The boy scrambles up the brick enclosure surrounding the schoolyard, propelled by sheer force of will.
A schoolmaster crosses the yard, yanking the boy down by his shirt, and instinct coils in me.
Cecil hits the ground, and I spring like a wildcat through the gate.
A broad chest stops me. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“That boy. He’s—”
“Are you his parent?”
“Guardian.” Almost.
That sweet little face that had once looked up at me with such trust. Promise you’ll come for me? “Please. I must go to him.”
Across the yard, the schoolmaster lifts Cecil off the ground by his collar, and Cecil’s feet are flailing.
I lunge again, and the man grabs me. “You’re coming with me.”
“Cecil!” I twist away, but the man’s grip is sure…practiced. Cecil is trying to escape. Sooner or later he will succeed, because he always does, somehow. If he does, he’ll be lost to me. A tiny needle in the great, big haystack of the world.
The man hauls me into the enormous brick institution and through the first office door, where he drops me into a chair. I stand, grabbing the desk. “I’m taking Cecil Linwood out of here. With or without your consent.”
His smile is slow and glittering. I’m no threat to him, a woman alone, and he knows it. He lifts the telephone. “Operator, ring the police, won’t you? Send them to Cheltenham Prep. And in the meantime, connect me with”—he flips through an open book on his desk—“Lansdown 355. Sabine St. Laurent.”
“You cannot hold me here. This is—”
“Miss St. Laurent. Yes, she’s come, just as you said. Shall we—” A frown. “Oh. Yes, of course, we can transfer the boy. Where would you like him sent?”
I lower into the seat, straining to hear. Where?
“Yes, immediately. I’ll send a boy to fetch his things, unless…right, then. On the double. He won’t be harassed by her again, I assure you.”
Harassed? By me? I want to beg, cry for the boy—for myself. Every turn I make is blocked. Every decision is out of my control, even for myself. My life is not my own.
“Right, good plan.”
My ears catch only the highest tones of Sabine’s voice over the wire. No words. No locations. I grip the armrests, until there are new voices in the distance. Loud ones.
Police.
Panic rips through me—what now?
This is the end, isn’t it? The end of my journey…of my chance to care for Cecil.
Of my freedom.
So many people snatching for control of me. At last, they will have it. I will be trapped.
But the image of Cecil scrambling up that wall, driven and desperate, stirs me forward. Escape must be a constant effort for him, which means he’s miserable here. Or worried that I haven’t come for him.
For a moment, I hear AJ prodding me to act. To take the risk. A sense of adventure I only ever felt around him stirs deep inside, and I spring out of the office. I bolt.
“Hey there, you!” the headmaster yells after me.
Heart pounding, I flatten myself against the wall behind the coat tree. When the man thunders past, I slip out and force my trembling legs to run down a long hall…until I see them. The officers enter—three of them. What now? Adventuring alone is entirely different.
I slow, lowering my gaze, politely deferential. “Good day, sirs.”
They hardly pay me any mind. They cannot know I am the one they’re here to arrest. I stare at the toes of my boots and continue walking. I’m shaking hard enough to fall down the front steps, if I make it to the door.
The moment they’re out of sight I bolt out the doors, fueled by panic…and by blinding anger at Sabine and at the men who bow to her wishes. Our lives are at their mercy.
I stand outside and catch my breath for a heart-pounding moment. I’ve escaped this arrest, but Sabine is everywhere. Sabine and AJ Winthrop, for he will find me. He’ll always know where to look, for he knows what I love most.
What will ever become of me?
“Mr. Linwood?” I sit up and blink in the dark of night, forcing my eyes to adjust. Bars. Why are there bars? As I look around, my heart plummets. A tiny, threadbare cot, a blanket, and a bucket for my waste. A tin cup with brown-looking water.
No. They found me.
Eric Linwood’s sad face shows in the moonlight. “It seems Sabine’s bagged another.”
No. No, she hasn’t. This can’t be happening.
Cecil’s father is worn down to a stooped old man with eyes that bulge in a skeletal face. But what horrifies me is that this is what I will become.
I put my hand through the bars and he takes it. His fingers are calloused, scabbed where he’s bitten the ends. “How are you?” I ask, but the answer is hauntingly clear on his gaunt face.
He looks away. “My Cecil. How is he?”
I’m shaking. “He’s…” Lost. Terrified. Tormented. “I’m going to take care of him.” I don't know how, but I must.
His face eases into a natural smile. The tics release their hold and he exhales. “He’ll be all right, then.”
“Lady St. Laurent is gone. And Sabine…Sabine—”
“Take care of my boy.”
I cling to the bars as he turns away. Cold air sweeps up between us and he’s leaving me alone here. Leaving me to face this and figure a way out.
I call out, but a great rumbling shakes the building. A horn blares and I’m seized with panic. I pull at the bars, but they crumble in my hands. The room falls away and there’s another jolt—the train.
I’m on the train.
It was a dream. A nightmare. The haunting of what could be.
Using a precious sixpence from Laura’s remaining coins, I order tea and meat pie from a passing cart and attempt to eat as the train carries me further from Cecil.
There’s only one place I might possibly find protection…
and guidance. But I desperately wish to turn back and take that boy in my arms, carrying him away from there and hiding him away forever.
I see the haunting face of Cecil’s father when I blink. Take care of my boy.
If only I knew how.