Connection

Chapter Twenty-Four: Cliff

--

Chapter Twenty-Four: Cliff

--

Their walk through the woods was silent, both lost in their own thoughts. Jean was enveloped in a sadness incomprehensible even to her, and Cliff was weighed down by watching the entire world seemingly crumble in front of him without any way to stop it.

The cold air clung to their bodies though neither was too aware to care. In the moonlight filtered through the foliage, they found themselves stumbling often, though both made it to Grez's without any serious injury.

Cliff knocked, the window melted and they climbed through the window together. Grez looked up from his seat on the couch with wide eyes at their sudden appearance.

"We have to talk," Cliff announced, his voice hoarse.

The weight of what they'd just encountered must have shown, for moments after Grez asked, "Is . . . uh, is something wrong?" with raised eyebrows.

He looked the same as he always did--if not a bit skinnier--though Cliff was too preoccupied to ask about it.

Inviting himself to the couch, Cliff sat down and Jean followed his lead slowly.

"What happened?" Grez questioned. He sat across them with spread legs and sharp eyes.

Cliff started with, "A man was killed."

Grez's eyes widened and he jerked back in his seat, his hand raising to his mouth instantly.

"Killed? You're sure?" His voice was soft, but the horror was written across his face.

"Positive," Cliff answered with a curt nod. "We saw the body."

"That--"

"I'd love to hear what you have to say, but there are other things we need to talk about. We did what you asked; we got to Charlotte's room."

Grez closed his mouth immediately, waving his hand for Cliff to proceed.

"Nothing was amiss in her room, but the balcony was another story. It was wrecked, and it didn't appear that her father had any intentions of fixing it up. I wrote as much as I could--" He pulled the book out of his jacket and handed it to Grez "--but we were . . . interrupted. Jean found something, though."

"You were interrupted?"

"Yes, there was someone watching us while we were on the balcony. We had to bail, but Jean saw it before I noticed them," Cliff answered. Jean, who had been staring glassily at the wall stirred, picking her head up.

"I can tell you about it if you'd like." Her voice was hazy, but she sat up a bit straighter as she said it.

"Please do."

"It was some sort of symbol. I was hoping to draw it when I saw it, but I think I still remember. Can I have the notebook?" He handed her the pad of paper and a pen and she began sketching quickly.

"It's not perfect," she muttered as she went, "but it's as close as I can get it."

On the paper, she had formed a sort of shield and on top of it what seemed to be swords were being loosely created.

Jean handed Grez the notebook once she finished drawing and he scanned it greedily, his eyes widening.

"I knew it," he murmured to himself, placing it down and burying his head in his hands. "All this time . . ."