you.”
“It’s not more pancakes, is it? I still feel like I’m about to burst.”
She laughs nervously.
“It’s not pancakes. But if I give it to you, you have to promise me you won’t fight.”
“Okay,” I say.
She looks behind her again and quickly reaches into the front pocket of her bag. She pulls out my phone and gives it to me.
“How did you get this?”
She shrugs.
“Does Mark know?”
“Nope. So are you still going to be a tough guy?” she asks.
“I guess not.”
“Good.”
“Thank you,” I say. I can’t believe she went to such lengths to help me—she barely knows me. But I’m not complaining.
“You’re welcome,” she says, then turns and rushes down the hall. I watch her the whole way, unable to stop smiling. When I head out, Mark James and eight of his friends meet me in the lobby.
“Well, well, well,” Mark says. “Actually made it through the day, huh?”
“Sure did. And look what I found,” I say, holding my phone up for him to see. His jaw drops. I pass by him, head down the hall and walk out of the building.
CHAPTER EIGHT
HENRI IS PARKED EXACTLY WHERE HE SAID HE would be. I jump in the truck, still smiling.
“Good day?” he asks.
“Not bad. Got my phone back.”
“No fighting?”
“Nothing major.”
He looks at me suspiciously. “Do I even want to know what that means?”
“Probably not.”
“Did your hands come on at all?”
“No,” I lie. “How was your day?”
He follows the driveway around the school. “It was good. I drove an hour and a half to Columbus after dropping you off.”
“Why Columbus?”
“Big banks there. I didn’t want to draw suspicion by requesting a transfer for an amount of money largerthan what is collectively contained within the entire town.”
I nod. “Smart thinking.”
He pulls onto the road.
“So are you going to tell me her name?”
“Huh?” I ask.
“There has to be a reason for that ridiculous smile of yours. The most obvious reason is a girl.”
“How’d you know?”
“John, my friend, back on Lorien this ol’ Cêpan was quite the ladies’ man.”
“Get out of here,” I say. “There is no such thing as a ladies’ man on Lorien.”
He nods approvingly. “You’ve been paying attention.”
The Loric are a monogamous people. When we fall in love, it’s for life. Marriage comes around the age of twenty-five, give or take, and has nothing to do with law. It’s based more on promise and commitment than anything else. Henri was married for twenty years before he left with me. Ten years have passed but I know he still misses his wife every single day.
“So who is she?” he asks.
“Her name is Sarah Hart. She’s the daughter of the real-estate agent you got the house from. She’s in two of my classes. She’s a junior.”
He nods. “Pretty?”
“Absolutely. And smart.”
“Yeah,” he draws out slowly. “I’ve been expecting this for a long time now. Just keep in mind that we might have to leave at a moment’s notice.”
“I know,” I say, and the rest of the trip home is made in silence.
When I get home, the Loric Chest is sitting on the kitchen table. It’s the size of a microwave oven, almost perfectly square, a foot and a half by a foot and a half. Excitement shoots through me. I walk up to it and grab the lock in my hand.
“I think I’m more excited about learning how this is unlocked than about what’s actually in it,” I say.
“Really? Well, I can show you how it’s unlocked and then we can just relock it and forget about what’s inside.”
I smile at him. “Let’s not be rash. Come on. What’s inside?”
“It’s your Inheritance.”
“What do you mean, my Inheritance?”
“It’s what’s given to each Garde at birth to be used by his or her Keeper when the Garde is coming into his or her Legacy.”
I nod with exhilaration. “So what’s in it?”
“Your Inheritance.”
His coy response frustrates me. I pick up the lock and try to
Alan Cook
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