A bit of chapter four...

Adam's been at the home a year, now...

I was hurrying back from the book store and about to turn into the shadows, keeping as quiet as possible, when I noticed a car on the opposing corner. The same type Rav4 as my father’s. Same color. I had not seen it around here, before, and... 

“Adam!” 

Reynard exited the driver’s side. Which made no sense. How did he know where I lived? 

“I’ve been trying to find you,” he continued, rushing across the street to me. “They said you were in that house and...” 

“Who said?” I snapped. His betrayal was still too fresh in my heart to be polite with him. 

“Doesn’t matter. I need to speak with you.” 

“To what purpose?” 

“I should never had told Papa about you.” 

This made me wary. Reynard had never apologized, before. Still it made me a bit less angry. “It is good you think so.” 

“It was a stupid thing to do. If I had thought through the consequences, I would never have done it.” 

I shrugged. “It’s done. Did Papa send you? Maman?” 

“My God, no. They would kill me if they thought I was here. They say you are dead.” 

I felt my breath leave my body. Perhaps even my spirit. “Is that what you came to tell me?” I whispered. 

“No, no, I...I just need you to let Papa know I did not know what you had become until that night.” 

My brain shut down. I could not formulate a single word except, “What?” 

“He thinks I hid your ways from him. And wonders if I have the same sickness. And I tell him over and over, no, I only suspected until...” 

“Stop!” That was the only other word I could think of. None of he said made sense to me. 

“I just...please, Papa does not believe me. He and Maman watch me, constantly. Have begun to control everything about my life to be sure I do not become like you and...” 

“STOP! It’s not enough you killed me?” 

“Killed you? No, no, you are right here and you have a nice home and room and...” 

“Who tells you this? Who told where I am?” 

“Adam, what is happening to me is your fault! I want you to take care of it. End it.” 

My book was in my right hand so I could not grab Reynard except with the other. Which I did, screaming, “How did you find me?” 

He shoved me away, growing angry. “Why are you getting so angry? I’m the one being ruined by your actions!” 

“You tell me. TELL ME!” I screamed that. 

“Here, see this?” 

He showed me the remains of an envelope with my name and this address. In a corner. Like in case of return. And I recognized the handwriting. 

Rory. He always puts a line through his zeroes. 

“No one read it,” Reynard spit at me. “No one wants to hear from you. But I was interrogated for days on whether or not I’d received other letters from you and I said no, over and over and over, but they don’t believe me so you have to tell them so. If you don’t, they will not let me attend Carelton. They think Ottawa is the center for more people like you and...” 

I hit him. 

With my fist...holding my book. 

In the mouth. 

I don’t know which of us was more surprised. 

Blood trailed from his lower lip so, of course, he returned the punch into my face and also my side. I stumbled back and dropped my book. He kicked it, I think without meaning to but still, that infuriated me and I jumped on him. We fell into a bank of snow, howling and kicking and punching at each other like two alley cats fighting over nothing. 

The door to the house opened and the good Christian man came out, snarling, “What are you doing?!” 

I was on my back so Reynard bolted to his feet. Despite the shadows, I noticed his nose was also bleeding and his eyes were filled with madness. He cast a glare at the man then ran off. 

I staggered back to my feet and stood there. Watching him vanish into Papa’s Rav4. And drive away. Into the darkness. 

I was trembling, not from cold. From absolute fury. He destroys my life them wants me to make his whole? As if he has the right to ask for that?

I saw my book was half in a puddle and that added to my anger. I picked it up and realized the man was asking me a question. Very insistently asking. I had to look at him to understand it. 

“Who was that boy?” 

I could not think of what to answer. Just stood there, swaying a little. Not yet hurting...and still rather shocked at how I’d fought Reynard. He had always been bigger and stronger, and it is true I had grown and I was trying to build my own body, a little...but I hadn’t even thought about what I was doing. It was simply reaction to his disgusting demand. 

I heard the question, again, and managed to say, “Someone I used to know.”