Kiera Hudson & The Secret Identity (Kiera Hudson Series Three Book 4) by Tim O'Rourke

Author:Tim O'Rourke [O'Rourke, Tim]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ravenwoodgreys
Published: 2015-05-25T22:00:00+00:00

9.

Why I decided to head left that day, I don’t know. Was it the chocolate voice deep inside daring me to do so? Had that voice become so tired of having its silence bought with pieces of chocolate that it had finally decided to fight back? Was that little voice growing bigger – louder – showing some sign of rebellion – taking control of my legs – placing one foot in front of the other as I took my first steps along an unfamiliar path in my life? Whatever the reason, I made a decision that day which I couldn’t take back. At first the decision seemed small. So what if I chose to head left and not right for once. Wasn’t I free to do so if I wanted to? Who was going to stop me? There was only me standing before the fountain. It was my choice which way I headed. Perhaps I had finally decided to take a different path because I’d tasted freedom – however slight that taste had been.

With my heart pounding in my chest – as if the decision I had made was a matter of life or death rather than a simple detour – I placed one foot in front of the other. Was it my imagination or did the water fall faster on this side of the fountain? Did it seem louder? Brighter? I glanced up at the statue and today he definitely seemed to be smiling. How had I ever thought he was crying? It was a definite smile he wore on his cracked and ageless face. Suddenly, I was being knocked backward in the direction I had come. With my arms out to brace my fall, I fell to the ground with a clunking snap of my jaw.

“Oww!” I cried out, the palms of my hands scraping against the ground.

There was a clattering sound all around me, followed by someone breathlessly saying, “I’m so sorry.”

I glanced up to see a woman kneeling beside me. And even though her long blond hair had fallen over her face, I was struck by how beautiful she was. She clawed her hair from in front of her eyes, which I could see were a dark brown and flecked with lighter shades of hazel. Each eye was framed by long, thick eyelashes. She had the most perfect face that was soft, yet strong and determined-looking, with high cheekbones.

“Are you okay?” she smiled, obviously noting the agog expression on my face. And when she smiled, the corners of her mouth tipped up, forming a dimple in each cheek.

“I’m fine,” I said, pulling myself up and brushing down the front of my dress. One of my shoes had come off and my bag lay open on the ground. “It was my fault. I should have been looking where I was going.”

“Let me help you,” the woman said, picking up my missing shoe and handing it to me.

The woman wore jeans and a leather jacket that stopped at the waist.

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