Clementine:
"Take care, okay?" Troy said, brushing his finger gently across my cheek before pulling his hand back. He remembered I'd told them not to touch me again. I was glad they respected that. I didn't want to keep reminding them.
"You too," I told Troy as he left the room.
The more people walked out, the more I realized how hard it would be staying behind with no one but Ian. Now it was just Ian, Yorick, and me.
I wished my number was next, but it wasn't. We hadn't opened our envelopes yet, so none of us knew where we were headed or what number we'd get.
After a few more minutes of silence, Yorick was finally called. He stood, clutching his bag in his fist before swinging it over his shoulder. Wearing a black jacket, he walked toward me.
"We will meet again," he murmured, his voice low.
The thing about Yorick was that, unlike the others who were sent away by stepmothers or stepfathers, he was sent by his own parents.
