There was no discernable pattern to the lines even though it looked as if there should have been. Would his insides turn into black goo?Six hours late... he landed in Paris. It was a Tuesday morning. He had forced himself to sleep on the plane and was less jet-lagged than he would have expected. When he turned on his phone, another text message awaited, consisting of three Interpol file numbers. Hunter let an evil laugh slip from his throat and then offered an apology when the person next to him. Were they going to send him to a place wherehe'd have to be a boy, and play sports and become strong and muscular? He'd never survive, he thought, since he was so terribly weak.Angelo was directed to the only vacant chair in the room. The threewere having tea, and Mary Elizabeth asked if he wanted some as well.He nodded that he would, keeping his eyes looking downward and hisshoulders narrowed, feeling like his body was shriveling up intoinsignificance before the three women. "Angelo, look at. More

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