Chapter 3 Part 2

Maxwell

An overextended stretch wakes my body up. My joints twinge with pain and my muscles ache from malnourishment. Looking around the hotel room that’s been my home away from home, my patience wears thin. It’s as if staying in a stranger’s home and having to watch your every step. The thick dark curtains that line each window are the only thing to resemble my home, the only thing to give hope to this wretched place. The only thing that’s pleasing is the fact that the streetlamps are beneath the fourth floor room, keeping any light at night nonexistent.

I find myself pacing the entire length of the room, entering a room and immediately exiting it. Boredom eats at me. I need to see Charlie even though I’ll have plenty of her soon enough. Within minutes, I stand outside her home. All the lights are off and her friend Juliet continually pounds on the front door. Her panic settles into every inch of my body. If she has no idea where Charlie is when she should be at home something may be wrong.

More than thankful that I started the connection between us last night brings much relief to my strained body. I know exactly where she is. A grueling five minutes later, I stand outside an office building. The name of the business is in large black letters above the door, Little Miss Creative. A breath I didn’t realize I was holding finally leaves my dead lungs as I stand outside of Charlie’s business, her pride and joy she talked so fondly of the other night.

Bending down just outside the front doors, I pick up a fake rock that’s mixed in with an abundance of real rocks. Occasionally, I peek through the glass doors of the brick building to make sure she doesn’t spot me while I fidget with the stone. The back compartment on the rock opens easily to reveal a key that’s hidden inside. There’s an identical rock just like this one outside her house as well.

Flipping the spare key in my hand, I recall when it was placed here seven months ago. Charlie was unable to come into work due to an illness, leaving Morgan in charge. Instead of giving her a permanent key, Charlie requested that a spare be placed.

Unlocking the door as quietly as possible, my mind wanders back to her sick body. The flu attacked her immune system for days, leaving her helpless and immobile. Juliet and Morgan took turns checking up on her, along with bringing her soup. As soon as she accepts me, she’ll never have the burden of illnesses again, but the way her attitude is, you would think she’s willing to endure illness after illness to stay away from her fate.

Slow, steady steps lead me to her personal office. The door’s wide open, but no lights illuminate the interior, indicating that she fell asleep before the sun went down. The lack of lights doesn’t stop me from viewing her sleeping body hunched over her large desk, making her appear small in size. Papers litter the tabletop, along with a mug stained with coffee. Helplessly, I lick my lips due to roaming thoughts about her caffeinated bloodstream.

Before I know it, I’m sitting contentedly in one of the chairs across from her. My hand slowly extends toward her arm that’s lying above her head. Papers are still clenched between her fingers and strands of hair stick to her forehead. Inches away from touching her, a dim pool of light brightens a small portion of the room, followed by a blaring ringtone, which forces me to leave.

As she becomes startled, the sound of her crashing into the wall behind her fills the room. Grunts of pain can faintly be heard as she struggles to answer her phone. When the office becomes fully engulfed in light, I decide to leave the grounds entirely, wanting to keep the knowledge of knowing where she works to myself. If she suspects that I’ve been spying on her to this extent, she’ll push me farther away, and the longer she fights me the harder it is for me to abide.

Reluctantly, I go back to my temporary home. With the door shut and latched, I head to the couch. My legs give way and I fall harshly on the cushions. Flipping the light on just out of habit, my hand brushes against paper at the base of the lamp. Now engulfed in a pool of light, an ivory envelope with curvy letters stares back at me.

I’ve been found and they know about Charlie. The High Council calls, making this ten times harder than I’m ready for. Then what Charlie’s ready for.