Chapter 7

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All of them crowded around the old, deformed lump of metal and long bent wires. Reporters swarmed Michael Travis with questions regarding how the secret service could possibly lose such important children while he reminded them that they were only responsible for the loss of one child and assuring them that the agents whom had been appointed on Connor had been questioned and removed and his best were searching day and night until he returned. As the world was informed about this predicament, the temperature seemed to drop. No one would feel safe if they knew that even the secret service couldn't sufficiently protect the president's son. Their situation could be the cause of a US rebellion and it would be entirely the fault of the secret agency that was after them for one reason or another.

As his father spoke, Connor seemed to be growing increasingly uncomfortable. "You guys can go," Lielle urged warily, obviously sensing her concern and Connor's discomfort. "You probably should get some rest before I check to see how much you've both actually learned today. We need to move on to dodging attacks tomorrow so you should be well rested. I'll come get you soon."

Evie didn't want to leave Lielle alone either, even if the girl scared her quite a bit. She was, after all, only human. She had feelings somewhere behind that dark mask of secrets and responsibility.

Despite what she thought, Connor got up and headed to the stairs that would lead to his room. He dragged his feet up the stairs and without a glance back he disappeared around the bend.

"Are you actually evaluating us?" Evie wondered as she turned to face Lielle.

Her immediate response was, "Do you want to find out?"

So, the young girl jogged to the stairs to follow Connor. She looked back at her mentor for a brief moment who was now sitting, head between knees. She shouldn't be taking on all this responsibility, Evie told herself. That is why I am not leaving. She's not the only one who wants revenge anyway.

* * * * *

Evie slept soundly, dreamlessly, pulled into that state of mind from sheer exhaustion. Sitting in the training area in the cool morning air, she stared at the gorgeous sun rising in the horizon. Oh, what it might be like to rise anew every morning, Evie fantasized.

In the distance, a door slammed shut, snapping her out of her dreamland. She rose, turning to walk back to the flaking red house. As she moved closer, she realized that she was starting to feel at home living like this. Constantly around Connor who was always there to talk to. An older girl who would not force them to return to their humble abodes to work on speeches and sit at a desk all day. They were practically a family, though no one seemed to be sure what Lielle's intentions were for the secret agency or them, or what she thought of their predicament.

Two voices sounded from the house, one seemed rather hoarse, crying maybe. The other was a young soothing voice. This could not be Lielle and Connor. Connor never cried and Lielle's voice was guarded and serious.

"He's worried about you," the unfamiliar voice comforted the crying one as Evie entered the house and inched toward the sitting room where she, in fact, did find Connor and Lielle, sitting side by side on the couch. "You'll see him again," Lielle promised.

"It was so unexpected for him. I feel guilty that I left him and my mother alone. I feel guilty about my little sister," he wept. "I stayed with Jean all those long, boring days while Father and Mother were working. We sat together and made each other feel loved. She doesn't have someone like Evie. She's only eight. She must be worried sick."

Connor began to hyperventilate as Lielle wrapped her arms around him. "You'll see her soon, Connor," the girl who seemed to get younger by the minute assured him. "I won't let the agency touch her or your parents."

The Last ElementalistOnde histórias criam vida. Descubra agora