But Allie wasn’t about to accept that.
‘I was wrong,’ Allie said. ‘It was an awful night and horrible things happened but I know…’ She paused for a second before finishing. ‘I know you love him, too.’
Spots of colour had appeared in Isabelle’s cheeks – the only sign of the tidal wave of emotion Allie suspected she was suppressing.
‘Yes, I do love him,’ the headmistress said. ‘Very much. And, with your help, we’ll have him back. Will you fight with me, Allie? For Carter?’
Allie didn’t hesitate. ‘Yes.’
Isabelle stood and walked around the desk to sit in the chair next to hers. This close, Allie could see the strain in her face. Her eyes were red-rimmed, underscored by shadows. But her expression was determined.
‘Allie, there have been times when, perhaps, I didn’t appreciate that this was as much your fight as it is mine. When I assumed you were too young to be involved in running this… struggle with Nathaniel,’ she said. ‘I won’t make that mistake again. You are at the heart of this. You have a right to decide what happens in your own life. And you have a right to know what my plans are.’
She took a deep breath. ‘I’m leaving the Organisation. Leaving Cimmeria. And I’d like you to come with me.’
The news hit Allie like a punch in the stomach. She felt winded. Betrayed.
Abandoned.
Hot tears prickled the backs of her eyes. For a second, she couldn’t seem to make her mouth work. ‘You’re… you’re leaving?’
‘We have to, Allie,’ Isabelle said gently. ‘You and me. Raj… Everyone. Whatever happens next, we have to leave Cimmeria Academy. We can wait until Nathaniel throws us out, or we can simply go. We can walk out of here on our own. I intend to do the latter.’
The bottom had fallen out of Allie’s world.
Do I have to lose everything?
She wanted to run out of this room and never come back. To sit in a dark corner somewhere and lick her wounds.
But she made herself stay.
‘I don’t understand.’ Her voice was thick with unshed tears. ‘Where will you go?’
Isabelle didn’t answer the question immediately. She ran her hand affectionately across the top of her polished, mahogany desk. Her face looked pensive.
‘Did I ever tell you I inherited this desk from my father?’
Puzzled by the turn the conversation had taken, Allie shook her head. She knew Isabelle and Nathaniel had the same father, different mothers. That they’d grown up together, and their father had left everything to Isabelle, even though Nathaniel was his eldest child.
But she knew little else about her family life.
‘He specified it in his will.’ Isabelle’s voice was soft. ‘It had been in his office as long as I could remember. It belonged to his father before him. He left it to me.’
She pressed her hands flat on the desktop, her eyes flashing with repressed anger.
‘I don’t want my half-brother to touch this desk. I cannot bear to think of him in my school.’ She lifted her hands. ‘But the simple truth is, he has won. And we have to start thinking about how we intend to lose.’
Too horrified and angry to be diplomatic, Allie raised her voice. ‘No, Isabelle. Don’t even say that. It’s not over. Not yet. We can’t give up. I won’t let you. Not after what he did. Not after Jo. Not after Carter.’
Putting those two names – those two fates – in the same sentence was hard. But they were being honest with each other now. And Isabelle had to know how she felt.
‘Oh my dear, how can you have so little faith in me?’ The headmistress leaned back in her chair, studying her with a melancholy half-smile. ‘If there’s one thing Lucinda and I have both tried and failed to teach you, it’s how to win by losing. I think you have no choice now, except to learn this painful lesson.’
‘I don’t even know what that means,’ Allie snapped. She wasn’t interested in word-play right now. She needed Isabelle to stop giving up.
‘Then let me explain it to you.’ The headmistress held her gaze steadily. ‘First, we will lose when we leave this school. I accept that. But what you don’t understand is, I’m not giving up. I’m starting over.’
Allie’s brow creased. ‘Starting over how?’
‘We will close Cimmeria Academy,’ the headmistress explained. ‘And open again with the same teachers, the same students, someplace else. Far away.’
Allie was stunned. ‘What? You want to move the school?’
‘Effectively… yes.’
‘But… how? Where would we go?’
‘We have a lot of support abroad, and there are many possible locations. There’s a lovely old school in the Swiss Alps. A beautiful place, high in the mountains. It was a Victorian finishing school.’ Isabelle glanced at her father’s desk. ‘I can see us there.’
Allie wanted to argue, but when she put it like that, it made worryingly good sense. An easy out. An end to the fighting. A fresh start. But there were flaws in the plan.