He fled, along with everyone else, and Simon was about to follow suit when Isabelle’s fingers snatched for his wrist. “He stays,” she told her father. “He most certainly does not.” “Simon stays with me, or I leave with him,” Isabelle said. “Those are your choices.” “Er, I’m happy to go—” Simon began, “happy” being his polite substitute for “desperate.” “You stay,” Isabelle commanded. Robert sighed. “Fine. You stay.” That ended the discussion. Simon dropped down onto the edge of Jon’s bed, trying to wish himself invisible.
