Secrets of the Harts

22 December 2009
“I hope you weren’t swayed by Dylan Fuller.”

I took her letter, her promise that the Agency would leave Luke and Tia alone and scanned through it. Everything seemed alright. I’d been worried that she wouldn’t hold to her promise, especially since she had radioed Owen to intercept after Dylan made the offer. It wasn’t like her to not wait it out to see what I said, which meant that either Dylan had hit close to the truth or she’d realized that there was no bomb after all and I had been sent on a wild goose chase.

I was leaning closer to the former, because Calloway wasn’t stupid. She probably would have realized a little slower than I had, if only because I knew Dylan slightly better.
Shrugging in response, since she seemed to be expecting some reaction from me, I added, “How long are you going to keep me here, Calloway?”

She glanced around at what had used to my bedroom. After I had left for the mafia mission, the room had been cleared of all my possessions, so it was more like a dorm now, stripped of all personality. But it wasn’t this that made me uneasy. I didn’t know what game Calloway was trying to play here. She wasn’t one for sentimentality.

“You have nowhere else to go, Kristen,” she replied, smiling. “Now that Sean Fuller and Vic Leonards have been apprehended, their minions have gone into hiding. But if I were them, the name I would hold close to my heart right now, the girl that I would be looking out for would be you. Unless you want to get yourself killed, you are welcome to leave.”

I flinched. I had lied before, when I had told Owen that I didn’t know why Calloway had sent me for the mission. The fact was, I had volunteered. The condition was that if I got the info we needed, especially the last piece that I was finding before I was noticed, I was free. I didn’t have to follow the Agency’s rules anymore. I could be Kristen Hart.

A least now I understood what she was trying to do. She was trying to remind me of my childhood when I had nobody else to turn to but her and nowhere else to go but the Agency.
“I’d rather take my chances,” I found myself saying. “Can I go now?”

Calloway pursed her lips. She was burying her anger somewhere deep inside of her but I caught a few glimpses of it.

I couldn’t help but think of what Dylan had taught me about people as I watched Calloway struggle to come up with a calm reply. React in a way people hadn’t bargained for and they would get frustrated and angry, which exactly how I wanted Kendra Calloway to feel because they were the only things I felt around her now.



Owen came to me a few hours later. I wasn’t surprised that he had but I was surprised when he said, sitting down on my bed next to me, “I wasn’t kidding when I said that you’d changed.”

“Really.”

He smiled at my patronizing tone and rolled his eyes. I could feel my heart softening towards him again, at the reminder of why I had liked him.

“You were obviously happier, that day when I saw you. And I have to admit, I wasn’t pleased…and I guess that’s why I’ve been acting like such a tool. So I’m sorry.” He shrugged, his face reddening slightly.

“That’s okay.” I regarded him, half charmed and the other half suspicious.

“The change, though, it was good for you. But I have to know, is it because of Fuller?”

I stared at my fingers, suddenly finding it hard to meet Owen’s eyes. I didn’t know what to say.

“Alright, can’t say that I didn’t guess as much,” he mumbled, more to himself than me.
“I don’t know why you want to know to begin with.” I forced my gaze up.

Kind hazel eyes, framed with too-long eyelashes; eyes that I had stared into a year ago, wondering if I had meant as much to him as he had to me. In the end though, I had gotten my answer.

“I’m just looking out for you. Fuller isn’t the easiest guy to read-”

“I know. And I don’t need you to look after me. I’m seventeen, not seven. I know what I’m getting into.”

He leaned in towards me, until he was inches away from my face and I tried not to let my alarm show on my face. But I guess he saw it because he smiled softly. Later, I realized that he was only doing this to avoid letting the camera catch what he was saying. “Does that mean that you’ll refuse my help?”

“…What help?”

He passed me an envelope and watched quietly as I scanned through it.

It was another letter, very much like the one Calloway had given to me hours ago. The only difference was I knew that she wouldn’t have put her signature on Witness Release Form for Dylan Fuller and Kristen Hart—from the desk of Kendra Calloway.

I bit on my bottom lip. “Thank you.”

Owen’s smile grew sadder. “No problem. It’s all I can do for you right now.”

Then he kissed me on the forehead before getting up.

My father had kissed me on the forehead plenty of times before. Every time after we’d fought, after I’d apologized, he would do so because a kiss on the forehead meant I forgive you.

Owen turned around expectantly, whatever trace of the sad smile gone. Instead, he said, “We should go get Fuller before she comes back from her meeting.”



Dylan had managed to keep his mouth shut until we were out of the Agency. He’d even managed to keep quiet when Owen had, shockingly, given me a hug before going back to the headquarters. But when I’d turned around, he went, “So I guess you’ve taken my offer.”

It never failed to amaze me how he could ruin a good mood just by speaking. “No.”

“No?” He did seem slightly surprised now. But his gaze flitted behind me, to Owen’s retreating back. “I see.”

My cheeks flushed. “No, it’s not like that either.” Dylan raised his eyebrows, as if to say Oh, really. “You’re going to help me find my mother. If we can find her and if I choose to believe you, which is unlikely, I’ll help you find that man you’re looking for. But I’m not going to help you kill him, only to find him. And the minute I’m done, I don’t ever want to see you again.”

He weighed this for a second and I couldn’t help but notice, again, how tired he looked. Had he even slept last night? “I don't have a problem with that, princess. Here’s what we have to do though…”



He suggested a makeover.

A makeover.

“Hey, are you done in there?”

I frowned, glaring at my reflection. The short, brown bob that I had as Christina Drake was now dyed blonde and now reached my shoulder, because Dylan insisted that I looked better as a blonde. Also, I had to ‘look like a girl’, which to Dylan meant dresses and miniskirts, though we were in the middle of winter. I didn’t even want to try to understand that logic, but I had to admit that it was a good idea to change everything.

Who knew how Calloway who react after finding that we’d escaped. I wouldn’t put it past her to put our names and faces up for Interpol to find.

“Helloooo. What are you doing inside?”

While I had never been a tomboy, I’d never worn anything so short in my life either. And it was all picked out by that stupid saleslady, the one who tried not to drool when Dylan had told her to do whatever she needed with me, no matter the price, he’d pay for it.

She was so smitten with him that she even allowed him to the girls’ dressing room. How ridiculous.

“If you’re not replying, I’m going to kick down that door, princess.”

I scoffed, yanking the dress as far down as it would go. It was so short, it barely even covered my butt. How on earth was I supposed to do anything in this? Besides, the dress was in an attention-seeking red, reminding me of Santa’s elves.

I peered into the stack of clothes that she had chosen. Wasn’t there anything more comfortable than this? Or at least less ostentatious?

“Okay. I’m coming in!”

Sighing, I opened the door and folded my arms. “There, are you happy?”

His gaze raked up and down my body, making me uncomfortable and fidgety. Finally, he turned to the saleslady and said, loudly, “I didn’t know you guys could work miracles. She actually looks like a female now.”

I smacked him in the face and slammed the door shut, pulling the dress off me as quickly as possible.

Outside, I heard Dylan continue at the same volume, cheerfully, “Hurry and change into the next one, princess, we don’t have all day.” Then to the saleslady, he added, in a quieter tone, “Yeah, we’ll definitely be taking that one.”



Helen sighed contentedly. Like that strange saying her mother loved; there was always a rainbow at the end of the hurricane. No matter how bad things had been when the Fullers had been around, things were going her way now.

The annual auction for the Shelter, held a few days ago, had been a resounding success. The Aston Martin that Dylan Fuller had donated, in particular, had received a lot of interest. She shuddered slightly at the memory of his visit and hoped that the girl he had brought with him that day was fine now. She probably was, especially newspaper had reported that Sean Fuller had finally been arrested in suspicion of being the mastermind of several illegal deals.

It was probably only a matter of time before Dylan was caught too.

Luckily, though, the Shelter hadn’t aroused any suspicions. She smiled slightly. Helen didn’t have anything else to fear anymore and now, she could concentrate fully on the Shelter. Christmas was only a few days away and there had, as always, been a sudden spike in donations. There was so much to do with that money…

A gentle knock on her door stopped her train of thoughts. She said, “Come in.”

In sauntered Dylan Fuller.

She barely paid notice to the girl next to him (not another girl that he’d kidnapped?) because her heart stopped at the sight of his smiling figure.

“Hi, I hope you don’t mind but I have some stuff I need to retrieve from the office.”

“N-No problem.”

He smiled at her in a way that convinced her he knew what she was thinking and headed to the backroom connected to her office, where Sean had always went when he needed things as well.

“Hey, are you alright?” asked the girl that came with Dylan.

Helen gingerly took a sip of water from her mug. Why couldn’t she ever be rid of the Fullers? But to the girl, she said, “Yes, I’m-”

The words died in her throat when she realized who she was talking to. It was the same girl, the one whom he had brought with him before. But she looked different. It took Helen a while to find out why. The girl’s hair was blonde now and what was it that she was wearing?

Dylan came out from the room and Helen turned to him.

“I’ll be going now. You probably won’t see me around-”

“Did you kidnap her? Are you forcing her into prostitution?”

There was a beat of silence as the pair absorbed this.

Then the girl turned bright red, matching the colour of her obscenely short red dress. “I knew this wasn’t a good idea. Why did I let the stupid saleslady into the room? It’s weird how strong she is, I couldn’t even fight her off when she was forcing me into this dress…all because of you.” She punched Dylan Fuller in the arm-from his wince it looked like a hard punch-and then she said, to Helen, “I’m not a prostitute and now I’m going to change out of this ridiculous dress.”

The girl shot Dylan another dirty look, which he smiled bemusedly at before stomping off.

Helen was still trying to understand the girl’s monologue and why Dylan hadn’t reacted violently despite her attack when Dylan said, quietly, “I guess that means that you read my note to my father then.”

“Yes.” She thought for a second, wondering if what she was going to say was appropriate before biting the bullet. “Whatever it is that you were planning before, I hope that you don’t hurt her. She seems like a good girl.”

Dylan blinked and then coughed awkwardly.

Helen grinned at him. It was so rare when Dylan became speechless and it was all because of that girl.