Page 35 of My Fallen Saint

“No. But you weren’t ever supposed to see me again, either.”

Anger and sadness war inside of me. I’m not sure if I want to rush into his arms or slap his face. I don’t do either. Instead, I ask, “Why on earth did you set up the foundation in Laguna Cortez?”

He flinches, as if he never expected the question. Then he sighs. “Because I didn’t think you’d ever come back.”

I swallow, wishing his answer didn’t hurt as much as it did. “But I did. And so did you.”

“That’s an inconvenience we’ll have to overcome.” He stands. “Now, I’m afraid you need to go. I’ll have Anna pencil you in for Monday. Right now, I have to review my speech before I go downstairs.”

I want to protest. I want to beg for more answers—hell, any answers. I want to see the tiniest glimpse of the man I used to know.

Instead, I head to the door, which magically opens as I approach, presumably from some button that Devlin has pushed.

“Wait,” he says as I cross the threshold.

I turn.

“I never wanted you to hate me,” he says. “But it’s good that you do.”

And with that, the doors swing slowly shut.