I was never told directly, but it wasn’t hard to tell that Emile and Ciel knew each other even before the Conservatory. It goes without saying then, that Priscilla had also know him previously as well.

Although they’d try their best not to mention the past, every now and then, one of them would let something slip. Something about ‘that day,’ or ‘before here.’ Little things that one would miss if they weren’t paying attention.

This all wasn’t that much out of the ordinary, however. Many of the other children at the Conservatory came from the same places. What was of interest though, was the way Ciel and Emile would act around each other.

For the longest time, I was under the impression that the two were friends. I’d figured that the airheaded façade that Ciel would play meant that he enjoyed someone’s companionship. It wasn’t until later that I realized that at least between the two of them, that persona of his was just to maintain appearances.

It wasn’t often, but once in a blue moon, when he’d think that no one was looking, Ciel would let surface an incomparable look of disgust, even if only slightly. And every time, without fail, the target of his repulsion would be Emile. I never had the courage to ask the reason for it.

Things were essentially the opposite when it came to Priscilla. Around others, Emile would try to keep his distance, hiding a genuine care he held for her. It was only after Priscilla’s health began to take a turn for the worse that he abandoned this disguise.

I did my best not to think about what must have happened between them in the past, but with the way things are shaping up now, that’s becoming much more difficult to do.

Priscilla seems to be waiting for me to ask.

I suppose I just have to choose the right time to do so.

----------------------------------

On a morning a few days later, after we’d returned to headquarters, I find myself climbing a familiar flight of stairs towards a surely vacated rooftop. That is, except for one girl. And it still evades me why she insists this is where we have to meet all the time.

Nevertheless, I arrive at the door and step outside, greeted by a bleak backdrop for an already bleak looking building. The girl I’m looking for waits at the roof’s corner, sitting still, but on the floor, with her wheelchair beside her. This is the first time I’ve seen her like this.

“Do you need a hand?” I ask, as I approach behind her.

“I’ll be just fine, thanks.”

“So, what happened? Did you slip and fall?”

“No, nothing like that, I just wanted to view this city a final time, standing on my own two legs.”

Given the circumstances, that sounds like it’s probably true. As far as I’m aware though, we’ll still be here tomorrow, and possibly the day after as well, so there’s only reason one reason I can think of that this would have to be the ‘final time.’

“I’m no expert, but I think they call what you’re doing ‘sitting,’ not standing.”

Priscilla seems mildly amused by my comment.

“Anyways, what am I here for today?”

I wait for the anticipated response.

“We’re proceeding with the plan.”

That’s all she needs to say.

“There’s no other way about it then?”

“Not that I could think of. It’ll be too late if we get detained.” She says, “Are you sure you’re good to drive?”

“I should be fine. I’ve picked up a skill or two over the years.”

Everything should be in place. All I’ve got to do now is trust in this girl.

“Alan isn’t going to be happy when we don’t show up tomorrow.”

Priscilla shakes her head.

“No, I don’t imagine he will be.”

----------------------------------

The clock ticks. Its rate is steady, but it feels like it’s slowing down. As the minute hand draws ever nearer to midnight, I grow more restless. I count my things for what seems like the hundredth time. Considering that the list is only two items long, though, that’s not entirely impossible.

Staring out the window at the lightless sky, I remind myself of the past few days and months, wondering how I’d gotten here, and more importantly, why.

I don’t know whether I’d had a goal in mind when I left the farm, or whether I’d picked one up along the way. I think there’s a part of me that knows that’s not true though, that the reason I’m here has never changed since that day. It doesn’t appear to matter if I’m afraid to find the answer, because the path I’ve set myself on never seems to stray to far from that original destination.

I’ll learn the truth of what happened that day.

As I slide the window open, the night’s air fills the dark room, but it doesn’t slow me down in the slightest. My body seems to move on its own.

Checking my pockets a final time, I feel out one key, and then the second.

I climb out onto the windowsill, refraining from looking down the three stories to the ground.

Taking hold of the ledge with both hands, I lower myself until my feet can touch the rim below. It’s not large enough to use as footing, but it’s curved in a way that I can grab onto it by curling my fingers around it. Switching one hand to hold it as such, I lower myself down one more level, with only two more to go.

After I make it to the ground, I hurry around the building to the garage, steering clear of any lights.

Using the first of my two keys, I open the side door and enter the dimly lit space, searching for the planned upon vehicle. Before long, I find it waiting right where we’d left it.

Two wheeled, and an electric engine slapped on the back. It’s nothing like the one that Claire taught me how to use.

I start the ignition.

Slowly moving across the concrete and my destination in mind, I make my way out into the night. With the streets still empty, it feels like all the time in the world belongs to me. And when time starts again, I’m met with a sight that no matter how much I’d tried to visualize it before now, still seems like something out of a dream.

There was Priscilla, waiting in the shadows, leaning against a wall, standing on her own two feet.

She has no qualms this time as I help her onto the bike.

Starting the engine up once again, we begin to move, forward, racing into the night.