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“Alright, Maja, I’ve got this,” Quentin reassured her with a smile. Quentin perched on the couch, the
very picture of innocence. Maja had retreated upstairs, her fingers deftly navigating Ian’s smartphone,
searching for something out of place. But being a new device, it was almost barren of any personal
touches. Eventually, she tapped into the notes app. A few entries scrolled into view, clearly Ian’s
handiwork. [Can’t find her Middle Island. Was she in Inner Island?] [Maybe in Outer Island? Where on
earth is she?] [Wish I hadn’t let her come with me. This is so irritating.] She knew instantly he was
talking about her. A smirk played on Maja’s lips. Ian didn’t have her number, so his notes were his only
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtsolace. Breathing a sigh of relief, she scrolled further down, only to halt at the very last entry. [How
could she be dead? Maja wouldn’t die, let alone disappear.] Maja stood abruptly, a frown creasing her
forehead. Someone told Ian she was in trouble? And then there was that call, telling her Ian had made
some other choice, something that might keep him away from her. If the news of her trouble was a
false lead, what about that phone call? Clutching the phone, her head started to ache with the weight of
the unanswered questions. Quentin’s voice floated up from downstairs. “Maja, it’s raining cats and dogs
out here, and that Patric kid is playing in the mud, paying no heed to the rain or me.” Maja hustled
downstairs to Patric’s side. True to form, Patric was squatting, prodding an anthill with his fingers.
“Patric, come inside, you need to get out of the rain,” she called out to him. His hands were caked in
mud, kneading the earth as if it were dough, shaping it into various forms. “Maja, eat.” He offered her a
clump of mud, his eyes shining
with innocence. Maja’s heart swelled with a pang of helplessness. She couldn’t scold him. Patric was
not in his right mind. Brushing the mud away, she urged, “Let’s go inside first.” “Okay, sure.” They
started back toward the house when Patric halted, touching his head. “Maja, I’m remembering things.”
“What things?” “People at the fighting ring were mean. I hurt lots of people, and animals too.” Maja
stopped in her tracks, her brows knitting together. “Have you confused yourself with Ian?” His mind was
a mess, but why latch onto Ian’s identity? “What? I don’t understand what you’re saying. I want to go
home.” Patric became agitated, clutching his head. “I want to go home.” Maja closed the front door,
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmpreventing another muddy escapade. “Quentin, take him to rest, and give him something for the cold,”
she instructed. Quentin, standing nearby, nodded in agreement. As Maja watched Patric’s retreating
figure until he vanished with Quentin, she found a spot to sit and collect her thoughts. Patric was still
Patric, but his choice to assume Ian’s persona—was it due to some peculiar treatment at the Mental
Hospital? She checked her own phone again. No call from Ian. If he was still on Middle Island, he
should have seen her message by now. So many people knew him there, yet no one had a clue about
his whereabouts. And that ambiguous phone call—it left her feeling like a target of some unseen gaze.
The information between her and Ian didn’t match up. If there were people deliberately spreading false
news around both of them, they were bound to keep missing each other.