'Yes.' His shrug was eloquent. 'But then, all the best words are French.'

She smiled, despite herself.

He tilted his head to one side, his expression open. 'So tell me, Allie. Why do you pace the floor like a prisoner? Are you working something out in your head?'

His eyes held such open curiosity and concern she had to fight off the urge to tell him everything.

I trust him again. When did that happen?

All this term he'd been nothing but thoughtful and kind. And heaven knew she needed help now.

'There's a thing.' She rubbed the toe of one of her sturdy school-issued loafers against the other. 'I've got to decide what to do. And whatever I do, I think it could be misunderstood by someone I care about. It might hurt him ... or her,' she added hastily. 'So, I guess what I'm deciding is ... which misunderstanding would be best.'

'Ah.' He leaned against the wall. 'That is the worst kind of problem, I think. The kind where there is no right answer. Only two wrong ones.'

'Exactly! So then how do you decide?'

'I suppose you trust your instincts.'

'Trust my instincts?' she scoffed. 'Nightmare.'

He studied her thoughtfully. 'I think, Allie, you make the right choice more often than you know.'

She started to make a joke, but then realised he was serious and the words died on her lips. For a long moment she stood still, staring at him without seeing him. 'I have to go and to talk to Isabelle.'

Without another word, she turned to walk away, intent on seeing the headmistress as quickly as possible. Then, just as quickly, she spun back towards him. He hadn't moved he was watching her with such an affectionate smile, it threw her off-kilter.

'Sorry,' she said, flustered. 'I shouldn't walk off without saying goodbye. That's rude. And ... We're still doing our thing tomorrow, right?'

'Yes.' She could see the amusement in his eyes. 'We will do the interview after dinner.'

'Cool.'

Light on her feet, she dashed under the staircase to Isabelle's door. Knocking, she turned the handle without waiting to be invited in; it sprang open at her touch. The room was empty. But the headmistress must have just stepped out the light was on and the warm room smelled of her Earl Grey tea.

As Allie waited, her eyes moved from the tapestry of a maiden and a knight with a white horse to the neat, low cabinets where the student records were kept. Though she tried not to think about it, her mind kept returning to the night when she and Carter had broken in to search for information.

At the thought, she twisted the hem of her jumper nervously.

'Oh, hello, Allie.' Isabelle breezed in, a pale blue pashmina loose around her neck. Her crisp white polo neck top and black pencil skirt were balanced by a pair of sensible, rubber-soled shoes. After setting a file down on her desk, she looked up with an enquiring smile. 'Is everything OK?'

'There's something I need to ask you,' Allie said. 'Something kind of weird.'

Shutting the door, Isabelle gestured to the leather chairs in front of her desk. As Allie sank into one, the headmistress sat in the other.

'Now,' she said, 'what is this weird thing? And does it require tea?'

Shaking her head, Allie talked quickly, explained what Carter had told her about Gabe. As she spoke, she watched Isabelle's cheerful expression fade.

'Why didn't Carter ever tell us about this before?' she asked, when Allie finished. 'Did he explain that?'

Allie thought she sounded wounded.

'I don't know. He said he didn't really think about it.' Hurriedly, she added, 'Because ... There was a lot to think about at the time. A lot happened. He kind of thought it didn't matter any more once we all knew Gabe was with Nathaniel.'

'I don't know why he would have thought that,' Isabelle said shortly. 'It doesn't make sense.'

Allie didn't know either but she couldn't say that. Worry made her stomach churn, and she started to explain more but the headmistress cut her off. 'Please don't worry, Allie. I understand completely. I was just thinking aloud. I'll speak with Carter myself to find out if there's anything else he might be able to tell us.'

Allie's mouth went dry. 'Don't be angry with him. I feel strange about telling you this stuff. But I didn't ... I mean, I just thought you should know because it's information about Gabe.' She leaned forward in her seat. 'You know Carter's not working for Nathaniel, right? I mean, he's not the one?'

Isabelle held her gaze. 'I do not believe for one second that Carter would intentionally betray us to Nathaniel.'

Intentionally?

As she tried to figure out what the headmistress was really saying, Allie's panic grew.

What have I done?

'Thank you for telling me,' Isabelle said, ushering her out. 'You did the right thing.'

But as Allie headed up the stairs to her room a short while later, she didn't believe her. She was completely lost under a heavy shroud of worry when a hand grasped her arm. With a startled squeak, she wrenched her arm free, only to hear a familiar deep chuckle.

'Sorry, did I scare you?'

Carter stood on the step just below her, that sexy half-smile she so loved curving his lips as he reached out for her hand again.

Oh balls.

'No,' she said. 'Just surprised me.'

'I've been looking for you all evening,' he said, lacing his fingers through hers. She wondered if he'd notice her palms were sweating. 'Where've you been?'

Allie thought carefully before answering. 'Oh, I was studying and then I kind of went for a walk, chatted with Isabelle, you know ...'

'Oh yeah?' His expression didn't change. 'What were you chatting about?'

The sounds around them students talking, feet thumping on steps, laughter seemed to fade into the distance. She couldn't tell him. She couldn't bear to see the look on his face the hurt and betrayal.

'Nothing,' she said, blood like ice water in her veins. 'I'm behind with my maths work and I was hoping she could buy me some time.'

'Tsk.' He waved a chiding finger. 'Behind on your work, Miss Sheridan? I'll bet she didn't like that.'

'Yeah.' Allie could hear the falseness in her own brittle laugh. 'She told me to catch up. Fast. Without her help.'

'Sound advice, young lady.'

He was standing one step below her and she had to look down to meet his eyes. Guilt seared through her.

I just lied to Carter for the first time.

Impulsively, she freed her hand from his and ran her fingers through his soft dark hair; instantly, his hands moved to her waist, pulling her closer. She bent over to kiss him.

'Curfew!' Zelazny's voice sliced through her confused emotions.

'Bugger,' Carter whispered against her lips.

The rush began almost instantly as crowds of raucous students hurried past them up the stairs towards the dorms. But Carter wouldn't let her go. His hands roved up and down her back sending sparks through her nervous system.

'I wish we could go somewhere. And be alone.' He pulled her towards him until his lips were against her ear. 'If you're not tired, I could come to your room later?'

Allie swallowed hard. She'd just betrayed him. Could she pretend nothing had happened while making out with him?

'People do,' Eloise had said. 'All the time.'

But Allie couldn't.

'Seriously, Carter,' she said, 'I'm so behind on my maths work. I've got to catch up or I'm so profoundly screwed.' Lie number two. Which he bought completely, of course. Because he trusts me.

As she ran up to the girls' dorm, her heart was so heavy in her chest it seemed to slow her down. Moving one foot after the other was difficult.

Lying to Carter. She'd never imagined she could do that. How had everything got so tangled?

In the relative safety of her room, she closed the door and leaned against it. Catching her reflection in the mirror next to the door, she frowned at herself.

What have you done?

She had to tell him the truth, of course. He'd figure it out soon enough after Isabelle met with him. And when he realised she'd lied ...

A sudden chill made her shiver, and she walked over to close the window. Wind was making the shutter thump against the wall, and rain had blown in and dampened the desktop.

Two things happened at the same time: she remembered she hadn't opened the window today and she saw the envelope on her desk.

It was of thick, heavy paper the kind used for invitations. Her name was written on the back. In Christopher's handwriting.

SIXTEEN.

Allie scrambled away from the desk so rapidly her feet tangled and she nearly fell. Reaching out for the wall, she caught her balance, all the time staring at the envelope on her desk as if it might get up and chase her across the room.

He's been in here, she thought with a mixture of horror and excitement. Christopher's been in here.

Her heart pounded so loudly in her ears she couldn't hear herself think, and she forced herself to calm down while she tried to decide what to do. Should she run straight to Isabelle? Try and find Carter or Rachel?

Or just open the envelope and see what's inside?

With tentative steps she made her way back to the desk, approaching the envelope as one might a caged panther until, reaching out a shaking hand, she picked it up.

The creamy paper was unmarked aside from the word 'Allie', written in the familiar handwriting she hadn't seen in more than a year. She ran her fingertip across the word as if it would give her some sense of what had happened to him why he'd run away. Why he'd left her.

Slipping her finger under the lip of the envelope, she pulled it open. Inside, a single sheet of thick, ivory paper had been neatly folded. She held it to her nose wondering if it would smell of her brother. Of home as it had been before he left.

But it smelled of nothing.

Unfolding it, she found her name written at the top in Christopher's distinctive left-slanting handwriting.

Dear Allie, I can't believe I'm finally talking to you after all this time. I've missed you so much! Staying away from you has been the hardest part of everything that has happened.

When I saw you that night last summer, I knew I had to get back in touch with you. You've changed so much I almost didn't recognise you. You're all grown up now.

I am so proud of you.

I know you don't understand why I'm with Nathaniel. But I haven't gone crazy or joined a cult, or whatever Mum and Isabelle told you. I just learned the truth about our family. And I made a choice.

I want you to have the same chance I did to make a choice based on the truth about who we are. We Meldrums.

So will you meet me so we can talk? I'll be down by the stream, next to the chapel, Friday at midnight.

I know you're probably angry with me, and I wouldn't blame you if you didn't come. But I'll be there. Please come. I can't wait to see you again.

Christopher Standing stock still, Allie gazed out of the window into the dark autumn evening.

Christopher was right here. Standing where I am now. Hot tears flooded her eyes. If he wanted to see me so badly, why didn't he wait until I walked into the room? Why leave a note and sneak away?

With effort, she forced herself to read the letter again. This time she noted the way he'd underlined their grandmother's name, writing over the letters twice until the word stood out on the page. He'd pressed his pen so hard against the paper it had nearly gone through.

As she stood holding the letter, one thought reverberated in her head: What am I going to do now?

Allie didn't sleep that night. She read the letter over and over again until she didn't need to read it any longer; she'd memorised it.

At about three in the morning, convinced that there was no hidden message in it and no part she might have missed, she lay back on the bed, her hands covering eyes, counting her breaths.

She had few options.

If she told anybody about the letter they would insist on telling Isabelle out of a desire to protect her. Then the matter would be taken out of Allie's hands.

They'd never let me see him, and they might do something to him. Have him arrested. Or something else. Something worse.

But the other alternative was to lie to everybody she knew.

Thinking about that made her feel sick.