* Julliane *
"Let us forget about this conversation, Jullie. It's not a good one for either of us."
Lance stood up abruptly, brushing imaginary dust from his trousers as if that might erase the weight of the subject hanging thick in the air. His eyes refused to meet mine. He was clearly done, done with the topic, done with my questions.
But I wasn't.
"You started it, Lance," I said, my voice sharper than I intended. "And I want to know, what did my mother tell you that day, after you sent me away? After you drove me to the airport and left me behind, away from Magnolia Manor, away from this island... and from you?"
His movements froze. Then, slowly, as if some invisible force pulled his head up, his eyes met mine. They were no longer cold they were conflicted. Torn.
"Alright, Jullie,
