asked, and they were back on safer ground. The oddly intense moment had passed, and Christine didn’t know whether she regretted the outcome or not.
“How did you know I was a reader?”
“I saw that you were drawn to the books on the bedside table in your room, and back at my apartment.”
She nodded. Perhaps Paul had as much trouble keeping himself from watching her as she did him. “Crime thrillers are my favourites. I like to live on the edge. Vicariously. Though now that I’ve experienced the real thing, my reading tastes may change.”
“I bet you always figured out who the bad guy was before the characters did, right?”
She laughed. “It’s just a matter of putting all the clues together and then rearranging them until they fit. If it was a good writer that valued careful plotting over ridiculous shocks and twists, that is. You can’t really predict those.”
“Well, hopefully we’ll be able to do the same in real life. Find the bad guy before the end.”
“That would be nice. If only I knew what I did to send whoever it is after me!” she burst out, her frustration spilling forth in an unexpected torrent. “I live such a boring life. There is no reason for them to want to kidnap me, or hurt me, or whatever they are trying to do.”
“There must be a reason, but that isn’t on you. They decided to act this way, regardless of whatever choices you made. You aren’t to blame for this.”
He leaned forward, and Christine thought for a crazy moment that he was going to kiss her. Instead, he captured her hand in his and squeezed it tight, offering her comfort. His face still hovered close to hers.
“It’s going to be all right,” he promised in a low voice that shook with some suppressed emotion. “We’ll figure this out, and then you’ll be home free.”
Her lips kicked up into a smile as she squeezed his hand in return. “I trust you.”
Perhaps both of them were feeling the odd atmosphere in the room. Certainly, Christine felt that she needed distance, and time to digest all the fluctuating emotions of the last hour or so. Paul, too, seemed to retreat into himself.
“I’ll let you get to work,” she murmured. Paul nodded in reply and spun his chair around so it faced the computer screen. As she walked out, he was dragging the keyboard back towards himself.
Chapter 10
Christine walked into the office in Station Alpha at exactly 10:55pm. Blake was meant to start his break-in at 11pm, and she didn’t want to miss it.
She’d spent the majority of the last few hours pondering her newfound revelation about herself. Her friends, her job, her life, all of it now seemed entirely temporary. As if she could just pick up and walk away whenever she felt like it. It couldn’t be a coincidence, this she knew. But she also wasn’t entirely sure how or why she’d built herself into this impermanent world, like a house of cards that she could knock over whenever it all got too much.
Had it been her parents’ early deaths? So soon after her awkward high school years, where she’d never felt quite comfortable in herself? She’d rebelled against her parents in those years, been an unhappy teen, and that hadn’t endeared her to her peers. Then, her parents had died before they’d been able to rebuild their relationship.
Had she had a particularly bad break up that she hadn’t realised had affected her?
She had dismissed that last one, realising that her relationships with men had also been emotionally muted by her inability to let people get close to her. Sex, she could deal with. But she’d always held herself back, and anything involving deep emotions had been avoided at all costs.
Eventually, Christine had concluded that her retreat from the pain of emotional attachments had begun even before her parents’ deaths. They had both loved her, dearly, but they had also taken great pains to make sure she fit into the world that they’d always felt apart from. They hadn’t wanted
“How did you know I was a reader?”
“I saw that you were drawn to the books on the bedside table in your room, and back at my apartment.”
She nodded. Perhaps Paul had as much trouble keeping himself from watching her as she did him. “Crime thrillers are my favourites. I like to live on the edge. Vicariously. Though now that I’ve experienced the real thing, my reading tastes may change.”
“I bet you always figured out who the bad guy was before the characters did, right?”
She laughed. “It’s just a matter of putting all the clues together and then rearranging them until they fit. If it was a good writer that valued careful plotting over ridiculous shocks and twists, that is. You can’t really predict those.”
“Well, hopefully we’ll be able to do the same in real life. Find the bad guy before the end.”
“That would be nice. If only I knew what I did to send whoever it is after me!” she burst out, her frustration spilling forth in an unexpected torrent. “I live such a boring life. There is no reason for them to want to kidnap me, or hurt me, or whatever they are trying to do.”
“There must be a reason, but that isn’t on you. They decided to act this way, regardless of whatever choices you made. You aren’t to blame for this.”
He leaned forward, and Christine thought for a crazy moment that he was going to kiss her. Instead, he captured her hand in his and squeezed it tight, offering her comfort. His face still hovered close to hers.
“It’s going to be all right,” he promised in a low voice that shook with some suppressed emotion. “We’ll figure this out, and then you’ll be home free.”
Her lips kicked up into a smile as she squeezed his hand in return. “I trust you.”
Perhaps both of them were feeling the odd atmosphere in the room. Certainly, Christine felt that she needed distance, and time to digest all the fluctuating emotions of the last hour or so. Paul, too, seemed to retreat into himself.
“I’ll let you get to work,” she murmured. Paul nodded in reply and spun his chair around so it faced the computer screen. As she walked out, he was dragging the keyboard back towards himself.
Chapter 10
Christine walked into the office in Station Alpha at exactly 10:55pm. Blake was meant to start his break-in at 11pm, and she didn’t want to miss it.
She’d spent the majority of the last few hours pondering her newfound revelation about herself. Her friends, her job, her life, all of it now seemed entirely temporary. As if she could just pick up and walk away whenever she felt like it. It couldn’t be a coincidence, this she knew. But she also wasn’t entirely sure how or why she’d built herself into this impermanent world, like a house of cards that she could knock over whenever it all got too much.
Had it been her parents’ early deaths? So soon after her awkward high school years, where she’d never felt quite comfortable in herself? She’d rebelled against her parents in those years, been an unhappy teen, and that hadn’t endeared her to her peers. Then, her parents had died before they’d been able to rebuild their relationship.
Had she had a particularly bad break up that she hadn’t realised had affected her?
She had dismissed that last one, realising that her relationships with men had also been emotionally muted by her inability to let people get close to her. Sex, she could deal with. But she’d always held herself back, and anything involving deep emotions had been avoided at all costs.
Eventually, Christine had concluded that her retreat from the pain of emotional attachments had begun even before her parents’ deaths. They had both loved her, dearly, but they had also taken great pains to make sure she fit into the world that they’d always felt apart from. They hadn’t wanted
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