Night School: Resistance (Night School 4)

I’d be throwing things around, she thought.

As he pulled more clothing from his wardrobe and folded them into the case, her eyes were drawn to the old oil painting that dominated one wall. It showed an angel carrying a man up to the clouds. The angel’s wings were beautifully painted – they seemed to glow from inside, like pearls. He’d told her once that it had been a gift. It only occurred to her now to wonder who had given it to him and why. There was nothing in his parents’ house like it.

‘I’m almost finished,’ he said, jerking her attention back. Picking up a small bag for toiletries he walked to a shelf by the door and picked a few items off it with deliberate movements.

He closed the suitcase, taking care to latch it. Then he picked it up as if it weighed nothing and turned to the door, his face set. Allie found herself wondering if he was in shock. He wasn’t acting at all like himself. It was as if someone was operating him from far away.

‘I have to go now, Allie.’

Panic made her heart race. He was really leaving.

‘Sylvain …’ She stepped towards him, arms outstretched as if to … what? Stop him? Hold him?

Lips tight with determination, he sidestepped her. Embarrassed and confused, she dropped her hands.

Seeing the look on her face he stopped and closed his eyes. He looked torn. Tormented.

‘I can’t do this, Allie. I have to go.’

But then, still holding the suitcase in his left hand, he walked up to her. Cupping her cheek in his right hand, he looked at her with such longing it broke her heart.

‘I love you, Allie. I always will. Even though I know …’ He almost smiled then, a terrible, sad smile. ‘Well, I know.’ Leaning forward he brushed his lips against hers; his touch as light and ethereal as a kiss in a dream. ‘Goodbye, Allie.’

Lips parted in surprise, she didn’t move as he walked away. In the doorway, he stopped and looked back at her.

‘Take Carter to the parley,’ he said. ‘And, whatever happens … stay alive.’

Then he was gone.

‘Sylvain …’ Allie breathed the word, too quietly for him to hear.

The sound of his footsteps receded in the distance.

She couldn’t seem to move. It was if her world had spun off its axis as she clung to it, helpless.

Nerves made her stomach burn and she clutched her abdomen as she tried to think.

Whoever tried to kill his father would surely want Sylvain dead, too. And anyone who supported Lucinda. He was just as vulnerable as his father.

‘He has to go,’ Nicole had said.

But he was walking into a maelstrom.

Only then was she able to move, and she ran after him, nearly tumbling down the staircase in her haste.

Tears wet on her cheeks, she skidded into the grand hallway. In the distance she could hear the steady rumble of a car engine and her heart stuttered with the fear that she’d missed him. That he was already gone.

When she reached the front door, Isabelle and Nicole were on the steps watching sombrely as Sylvain opened the door of a gleaming black car.

Allie ran down to the lowest step and then stopped, unsure of what to do. She knew she couldn’t stop him. If she tried, she’d only make things harder for him.

When he turned for one last look at the school, Sylvain’s eyes found her.

Choking back a sob, she raised her hand in goodbye.

For a long moment he stood still, studying her as if he was trying to memorise her face. Then he climbed into the car and it drove away.





33





Thirty-three





‘Take a break, everyone.’ Raj looked around the training room. Sweating, exhausted Night School students collapsed on to the dark blue rubber matting on the floor. ‘We start again in ten.’

The students groaned.

Allie stayed on her feet, muscles tense. She didn’t want a break. She wanted to fight.

‘What’s wrong?’ Cocking her head to one side, Zoe studied her with a quizzical expression. ‘You look funny.’

Allie wasn’t in the mood to explain how she felt. ‘Nothing,’ she lied. ‘I’m just thirsty. I’ll get us some water.’

Without waiting for the younger girl to respond, she crossed the mat to the front of the steamy room where a cooler filled with water and ice stood open. Grabbing a bottle, she pressed the cold plastic against her forehead.

Sylvain had been gone six hours but it felt like days.

At least his father had come through surgery, although he hadn’t yet woken. She couldn’t imagine what Sylvain was going through. Everything there must be so chaotic and heartbreaking.

She couldn’t get the look he’d given her in his room out of her mind. He’d seemed … destroyed.

Against her will, her gaze was drawn across the room to where Carter stood talking to Raj. His cheeks were red from exertion and his dark hair had swung forward to his eyes, sticking to the damp skin of his forehead.

Allie kept hearing Sylvain’s words in her mind. ‘Even though I know…’

Guilt swirled inside her. What did he know? That she’d had doubts?