Page 53 of The Flame

My heart went out to him as I realized what he was looking at. His home was on the other side of those trees. “They aren’t there.”

He turned to me. “What?”

I hadn’t had a chance to explain everything to him. “The council families have been relocated from Parklands. Jessie mentioned that Brenda is now staying two streets over from her, near the square, but I’m not sure about your parents. I think they may have been moved to the Legislative District.”

He deflated, sinking low in his seat again.

Roman cut left onto the dirt road to our cabin and we fell into silence again until he pulled up right in front of the door.

We all jumped out and dashed inside. Daniel went to strip the bedding in both bedrooms, Roman filled my cloth shopping bagwith whatever food he could find and I paused, my gaze darting between the bedrooms and the kitchen.

“Where’s the best place to leave the letter? The kitchen table?”

Roman shook his head. “That’ll look too intentional.”

“It’s going to look intentional, no matter what we do.” Maybe I could work with that.

I joined him in the kitchen, grabbed what I needed from the stationary drawer and stood at the oak table, penning on an envelope,Mom & Dad. I stuffed the letter inside, sealed the envelope and left it right there on the table.

“I’ve done what I’ve done, I’m fleeing to The Smoke and this is my explanation and goodbye to my parents. I’m that naïve thinking it won’t falling into the wrong hands, or maybe I’m beyond caring.”

Daniel reappeared, his arms loaded with quilts and blankets.

Roman glanced at me. “Are we done?”

“We’re done.” I scooped the pack of envelopes, some pens and a stack of note paper from the stationary drawer before heading out. I was going to need those.

Then I was walking out of my home for the last time, again.

At the last moment, I spotted my bicycle against the wall and pushed that outside with me. Roman didn’t comment. We both knew the bicycle meant I wasn’t staying put in the deepest, darkest corner of the nature reserve.

We threw everything onto the back of the truck and a moment later, Roman was reversing out into a U-Turn.

Once we hit the service road, the track narrowed, thick pines pressing close on either side. At every fork, Roman kept left, keeping us on the Parklands end of the reserve. We traveled for about twenty minutes, although it was hard to judge the actual distance. The dirt path was pitted with holes and bumps, forcing Roman to drive so slowly, we were crawling, but eventually we arrived at a derelict cabin in a clearing.

Rundown wooden shack would be more accurate, and it didn’t sit quite level, as if one side of the ground had started subsiding, dragging down that half of the shelter.

Roman kept the headlights of the truck on until I found my way up the wood-slatted steps to a rickety porch that creaked beneath my footfalls.

Cabin 39.

The door wasn’t locked. It wasn’t airtight either, with warped gaps on the sides and below. Once inside, I flipped on the electric switch, flooding the interior with light. The curtains on the windows were thin, but we were so deep into the woods, I wasn’t worried about giving our presence away.

We were so deep into the woods, Iwasworried about ever finding my way back to town again.

I wasn’t even joking.

16

Roman was generous with his time, too generous, helping us transfer what we needed from the truck, insisting I comb through my moving chest for anything I might require.

“I’d rather you didn’t delay any more than necessary,” I told him.

He gave a slow nod. “I would prefer to get through the gate without a stop and search. But a couple of minutes isn’t going to make much difference.”

So I unlatched the chest and quickly pulled out extra clothes and underwear, carrying that inside to the room I’d chosen. The cabin was small and basic, with a central living space that doubled as a kitchen, a tiny bathroom with a shower stall, two small bedrooms on either end and minimal furnishings. My bedroom had a pair of single beds and Daniel’s had a pair of bunk beds.

Roman dropped my overnight bag onto one of the narrow beds, then reached for me, pulling me into his arms. “You can still change your mind.”

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