“Evangeline!” Leo shook his head in exasperation, but then began chuckling. “I see what Sofie meant …” he said to himself. “You’ve changed, but you haven’t changed …” He dropped his hand. “Your friends will come looking for you when the time is right and Mortimer and Viggo can’t track them. We just hope that, when they do find you, they can control themselves. Otherwise the dogs and I will have to kill them, no question about it.”
I looked down at my stew, then set my fork down and pushed the plate away. I buried my face in my arms. Leo’s hand settled on my head, patting me gently. It was a small comfort, but he was trying. I turned and looked up at the old man, my appointed guardian, wiping away tears. “What am I supposed to do, Leo?”
He smiled. That smile, at least, I recognized as his. “Trust us.”