I cross the dark room, catch the curtain fluttering in the wind and look out of the window. There's a thick oak tree growing right in front of the house, its branches so close to the walls that they have to be trimmed every spring. I look down and, through the maze of leaves, I see a slim figure in a dark hoodie let go of the lowest branch and jump to the ground with a muffled thump.

Raven.

My first instinct is to call out for him, but I hold my tongue. If he went to such lengths to sneak out, it's unlikely he'll just come back when called. Also, it could wake Catherine up, and I don't want to upset her. She relies on me. I can handle this.

I turn around and hurry back to my room. I move around it like a tornado, grabbing and pulling on my pants, shirt, shoes, tying my shoelaces. Then I tiptoe to the stairs and go down as quiet as I can. There, I grab my keys and head for the exit.

Once on the street, I breath in the chill air and look around. The figure in the hoodie at the end of the street is turning the corner. I set off and run, trying to make as little noise as I can. I reach the corner and see him walking confidently away, his hands in his pockets, his hood up.

I follow him. Soon, I shorten the distance between us enough to hear the occasional creaking sounds his sneakers make on the asphalt. If I sprint now, I could grab him and make him go back. That was my original plan, but now I hesitate.

Where is he going? If I catch him, he won't tell. Maybe I should just go after him and find out. If Catherine wouldn't tell me much about him, I could learn things by myself. It's pretty clear he isn't escaping for good, given that all his stuff has remained in his room. He's just going somewhere. But where?

The two and three story houses float by, their windows black. I keep away from the pools of light under the street lamps, but it seems an unnecessary precaution, since the figure ahead of me never looks back.

We reach the end of our neighborhood, and five-store shabby buildings replace the neat private houses and clean loans. I don't like this part of the town. It's nasty enough during the day, let alone at night. There's a bowling place nearby that I've been to with my pals, but apart from that, there's nothing but the cheapest and the oldest houses, and a few sleazy motels renting by the hour. There's a large park, too, proudly called The Central Park, but it's mostly frequented by drug dealers and prostitutes rather than by joggers.

I glance at my watch. We've been walking for about fifteen minutes. What if he's just fooling around? What if he's noticed I'm following, and is just walking in some random direction?

We enter the park. There're few working street lamps here, and some alleyways are completely dark. I don't like it.

I notice some movement from the corner of my eye, but when I look, I don't see anyone. A little further, a couple of women are sitting on a bench under a street lamp, and some guy is standing nearby, smoking. Raven passes them by, and a few seconds later so do I, feeling the curious eyes of the women on me, and the heavy stare of the man.

I shouldn't be here. I should just get Raven and bring him back and have a nice intense chat on what the hell he's doing at such a place at such an hour.

Ahead of me, he turns into a sideway alley and I can't see him behind the tall bushes growing on the corner. I speed up, but then someone steps in front of me. I jump back, my heart leaping in my throat.

"Hey, hey," says the man, raising his hands in a calming gesture. "Sorry to scare you like that."

He's a middle aged man in a long buttoned up coat. With his bold egg-shaped head and glasses he looks more like an accountant than a drug dealer or a pimp, but my heart is hammering anyway.

"How much?" he says.

"What?" I stare at him.

"How much do you..." He trails off, peering into my face, probably reading on it my complete lack of understanding. He steps back and raises both hands. "Never mind."

"What did you want?" I demand.

"Nothing, nothing. Good night." He turns around, sticks his hands in his pockets and begins to walk away, past the two women on the bench and the smoking man who continues to look in my direction with the same heavy, unblinking stare.

I back away and head for the turn behind which Raven has disappeared. My heart is still beating fast. How stupid of me to have come here. I have nothing to protect myself if I get attacked.

I turn around the corner and stop in my track, looking at the long, poorly lit, empty alleyway ahead.

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