Chapter 8: Advised (Part 1)

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Emmaline's POV

One by one, Jon took out items from his case. A notebook. A small box. A picture frame. I looked at them, curious about how these things could be linked. "I found these things in his room after he snuck out, the night before the Assignment. These were all laying on his bed, and I knew instantly that he was seeing you and was with you when he snuck out." Jon gave me a knowing look.

"Yeah, he would come to my house every night to tuck me in. He would leave sometime in the early morning and leave me a note or a small gift. It was risky, but Mr. Markson, I think that he loved me. I know I did, and I was crushed when I got paired with Christopher. Speaking of, how did you know where to find me?" I asked.

Jon hesitated for a minute before answering. "I bent a few rules, but I used to work with computers before my wife, November, died. I knew all the inner workings of the network, and it was easy to hack the firewall. I looked through the records until I found your image, since I only knew your first name."

"When I found you, I did some extensive research; you could call it stalking. I found where you were staying, your partner and a short biography of you, a description to whoever needed it. I hoped that you wouldn't mind my prying," He added quickly.

I shrugged. "Not at all." I told him with a smile. There was nothing that I needed to hide.

Suddenly, I though of something, but I shook the rebellious though out of my head before I dwelled on it.

Haden's dad handed me the notebook after a prolonged silence between us. I looked at him, and he nodded for me to open the yellow-paged journal. The cover was bound in the softest, richest blue velvet. My name was embossed in gold, cursive lettering across the front. I opened it slowly, breathing in the scent of Haden that had been trapped between the pages.

On the inside cover, I found a short little note scrawled in his neat penmanship. It read, "To Emmaline, for I am yours, forever. I love you so much, princess. Yours, Haden." His somewhat less neat signature followed.

I smiled at the sweet little message. It reminded me of the way he would talk, write notes to me in class, and the way he would love me. Something as little as that completely changed my outlook of the future. I set the little book aside for later, vowing to read an entry before I fell asleep tonight.

Next, I picked up the small wooden frame. The picture that he had put in it was of us, that day when we went to the river. We hiked for a mile before we found the perfect spot; a quaint little alcove to picnic in, far away from the worries of our world.

In the photograph, my hair was dripping wet from swimming, diving, and being thrown in. His skin was glistening in the evening sun, water droplets rolling down his face. I remember that event as if it were yesterday, clear and in the front of my mind.

Again, my mind wandered to thoughts of hatred, a deep detestation for the people who made this happen. Wanting to hurt all of the executives, teachers, companies that were behind this act of injustice. It was against human nature to not have a choice in love, and it made me wonder why they did it. Rushing teenagers into marriages, pregnancies and drama. Taking us out of school, is that how they wanted us to live?

My thoughts shifted to Chris. Life with him so far wasn't bad, and I considered myself lucky to not have been paired with someone who would be aggressive and rape me the first night. It pained everyone when they had those kinds of stories pop up on the news. It stirred up more problems than the government wished to deal with.

It gave a girl lots to think about when she approached her big day. I went through it all, the long nights worrying, the tears, heartbreak and a deep fear within me that I could never shake. Never getting to see my one and only love again.

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