The Exile

Chapter 2: Meetings and Speaking Out

I sit down across from Myrina, at my desk, pen and paper in hand. I try to calm my shaking hand, as I hesitantly meet her eyes. She's already looking at me, it seems, waiting... expecting me to speak first.

Goddammit, Erin, pull yourself together.

Quickly, I say, to fill the gap of silence I left, "So... what can you tell me about Fletcher? What kind of abnormality do you expect?"

She grips her gloves tightly in her hands and I can hear the leather squeak in protest. "Well... when he sprouted his wing, I already suspected something. I mean, I've never heard of someone sprouting one so early in their life. Then, he started to... ask questions."

"What do you mean?" I ask, barely able to take my eyes off of her. I keep having to remind myself to write things down.

She sighs, her posture a big rigid in the leather seat across from me. "At first, they were innocent questions. Like, 'what's your favorite color?' and 'do you like meat?' those kinds of things. Then, he started to ask me... things he shouldn't know. Things I've never even told anybody before." She shakes her head, clearly troubled with this.

Somehow, I was skeptical. But I kept my opinion to myself, at least, until I spoke to the kid myself.

"Has he showed any other signs of abnormality?"

"He say he has visions in his sleep," she says. Once again, her knuckles get tight around her gloves. I note it mentally, but scribble it down anyway.

I motion with my pen at her. "Explain?"

"He doesn't say much about them. He sometimes mentions that he can see other people in his dreams. People he's never met. He once told me he saw my father in his dream and he told me that my father was sorry for everything he's done," her eyes darken a bit. It eats me up inside to know what I know about her past and her have absolutely no clue that I know. She shakes her head. "How does he know? I've never even mentioned his grandfather before."

I place the pen and paper down on the desk and stand up. She joins me. "Well, I'll speak with Fletcher and see what I can figure out."

"Oh, and one another thing," she says and grabs my arm when I try to leave. I feel goosebumps rise when I realize she's still cold. Just like I remember. "He doesn't do well with talking to strangers. I mean, he's already kind of a strange child. But he... he's shy. He doesn't have any friends at school because of it."

I nod once and head for the door.

I'd get this kid to talk.

When we come down, Fletcher is sitting next to Koul and the poor girl looks a bit alarmed at whatever he had said. He then turns his head toward us and smiles, before getting up. "Hi, mom. Are we gonna talk now?" He says, turning to me.

I nod my head and lead him up the stairs, back to my office.

I close the door behind us and he plops down on the leather sofa. I sit down in my chair and turn to him, pen and paper in hand.

"How are you today, Fletcher?" I begin with.

He shrugs one shoulder and looks around the room absently. "Fine, I guess."

"Fine," I repeat back to him and then say, "So what can you tell me about these... visions you have?"

"Sometimes they're simple. Sometimes not."

"Can you explain?"

He thinks for a moment. Then, "I know you're guilty."

I wasn't expecting that, so I kind of just sit there, pen places on the paper. "What do you mean?"