The next morning he found her awake and ready when he knocked on her door. The dark circles under her eyes were all but gone, as were the weary lines on her face. Her back still troubled her, he could see, but not as much as the day before. The sleep had done her good. Her attitude towards him, however, was the same. It was much like being around a skittish horse. He felt her guarding his every move, ready to recoil at any time. Jacob adjusted accordingly and made sure not to make any sudden moves.

He took her downstairs to the dining hall where the rest of the household was gathering for breakfast and led her to the middle of the room.

Everybody turned their attention to the sound of his voice, then at her, as Jacob spoke up: "Everyone: this is Miss Elisabeth Cole. She will be staying with us from now on. She is the daughter of one of my order, and the Templars are after her."

Jacob was making no secret of her identity. He saw her flinch when he spoke, but she would soon learn, who she was, made no difference with the Rooks. Only if she understood, might she let down her guard. Then he introduced her to all of them in turn, the lads who was with him the day before, and rest of the women and men.

Jacob made sure she found a seat among the women, before seeking out the matron of the base, Mrs. Cutler, a woman of forty who ran the household with a firm hand. She had earned Jacob's undisputable trust keeping the Rooks and the base in order for almost a year.

"I need you to keep her occupied today," he told her, "Let her join the work with the others. She is not to sit idle somewhere, alone."

Jacob knew Mrs. Cutler understood the importance of the task he set for her. Keeping Liz active would prevent her from pondering an escape, and if she was included in the community, it was less likely she would want to leave, given some time.

"Make sure you don't wear her out, and no heavy chores," he added. "Her wounds need to heal and she needs to regain her strength." Then he went to join the others at the tables.

/

Jacob left the base after breakfast. He needed to tell Evie about the turn of events and sought her out on the train together with Henry. She listened with half-hearted interested as Jacob told the story of finding a young woman being held against her will in the orphanage, and huffed irritated at as he relied her escape and their manhunt after her.

"Rally, Jacob! You cannot treat innocents this way," she reproached, but for once, Jacob did not take that bait. Evie leaned back on her seat, silently following his story with her arms crossed over her chest and looking irritated out the window. Only when Jacob told her who the girl was did Evie's attention turn around to face Jacob. She drew her breath rapidly and hectic roses spread in her cheeks.

"We need to find out if she knows where the information is," she said.

Henry exchanged looks with Jacob, and Jacob said; "We believe she does, Evie."

"Then we must make her tell us! If we get that information I might find clues the Templars does not have, maybe even to the Eden artefact I am trying to track down."

They had anticipated Evie would want to get to the information quickly. Henry cleared his voice.

"We cannot force her to tell us, Miss Frye."

She looked at him incredulous, then to Jacob.

"What do you mean? Are we just going to wait for her to tell us?" she said.

Jacob caught her eyes. "She has managed to keep this secret from the Templars for years. If you try to get close to anything to do with it, she closes up like an oyster."

Evie's mind was racing, focusing on finding a way around the resistance she was meeting in her brother and her friend. "Oysters can easily be opened if you know where to insert the knife!" she said absentmindedly.

"Evie!" Jacob's voice carried a menacing tone. He knew she was frustrated over the standstill in her work of lately, but he could not tolerate blatant threats, not even from her.

Evie rolled her eyes at him. "I did not mean it literarily, Jacob, but we cannot just sit idle and think she will tell us?!"

"We have made a plan" Henry said, and looked to Jacob. "If we are to make her tell us anything, Jacob will first have to win her trust."

To say that Evie was sceptical of their plan was a grave understatement. She sat silent and looked at Henry as if he had gone mad. For a few seconds she was lost for words, before looking back and forth between them. Jacob waited for her reaction. Both he and Henry knew they were in for a fight, to get Evie to accept the plan.

"You are joking. Tell me it is not true." Her face was shortly turning red and her blue eyes darkening with anger.

"It has to be Jacob, Miss Frye." Henry said firmly.

"No, it does not have to be Jacob! I can do it; I will do it. Just send her to me and I will fix it!"

Henry sighed as Evie continued, her voice turning almost pleading; "Jacob is a walking disaster. I will never have those clues if this is our strategy."

To Jacob's surprise, Henry raised his voice against his sister.

"Miss Frye! This is just why it has to be Jacob. You are too eager, and your focus is on the information, and not on the girl. She will smell your intent the moment you open your mouth.

"But…," Evie was taken aback. The Indian Assassin rarely spoke his opinion this clearly, however, now his words were firm and the tone in his voice one not to be contradicted. It stopped Evie's frantic argumentation and made her listen.

"This young woman has been to hell and back because of that information. Jacob found her; he dragged her across the city, scaring her half to death. She will never tell us anything unless she learns to trust him. Jacob must do it. There is no other way."

Jacob could see his sister was still frustrated; the turmoil inside her evident on her person, but the anger in her eyes was gone when she looked back at Henry. His opinion carried weight in more than professional reasons, and Jacob felt sure she would not have given in to him, even if he had used the same arguments.

"She has sworn to stay at the base," Jacob said, "I am able to keep her there, and keep her safe. I promise you, I will not to screw this up, Evie." His sister turned to face him.

"You had better not, Jacob, or I swear I will break your nose."

Jacob smiled at her. Knowing his sister, this was as good an affirmation as he was going to get, that she accepted the plan.

Satisfied with the outcome, Jacob got up to leave. Evie trailed after him, following him to the door. He expected her to give him a lesson or quote from father about the task, but as he turned beside the door to face her eyes lit up with amusement.

"I thought hunting for ghosts was my department, Jacob," she said grinning slightly at him. Jacob remembered his words from the week before and answered her with half a smile, before tipping his hat at her and getting off the train.

/

On his return that evening, Jacob went around the compound, talking to the guards. Liz had made no effort to escape, but the guards had seen her eyes wandering. She was trying to figure out their routines whatever chance she got. It was as he expected. Her oath to stay was a forced one, but Jacob hoped the key would make her wait until she was sure, before she made an attempt. The security was strict and figuring out a way past the guards would take her some time. In the meantime, she would have to interact with the people at the base. For someone who had never known friendship, the community would be an alluring force to face. Jacob was curious to how she would react to the experience and went to find Mrs. Cutler in the kitchen to get her reports of the day.

Liz had been surprised to find that Jacob had left the Base after breakfast. She had anticipated another round of questioning in the morning, and when she understood the subject of her father would be left alone she had relaxed. She had joined the women in the tasks of the day; their good-natured humour had made her ease up a bit. The work was much the same chores she was used to from the orphanage, and she had made an effort to contribute.

"She is a good girl, Jacob." The matron said, "She is hard-working and easy to ask, a bit reserved, maybe, but that is to be expected."

A few days passed uneventfully, the reports from the guards were the same; Liz was clearly searching for a way out. Jacob would have to find a way to make her keep her toes in line. The opportunity presented itself one morning, as Jacob made a round of the property talking to the guards. It was a routine he followed whenever he was staying at the base, making sure the security was tight. Tom was the one posted on the roof that day. He had little to report; the night had been a quiet one with nothing out of the ordinary happening. Jacob was about to take his leave when Tom's eyes averted to a point behind him, and the flicker of alertness in his eyes made him turn his focus on the yard below.

Elisabeth was alone by the water post, supposedly fetching water. The Rook on duty in the yard was talking to someone at the gate, his back tuned to Liz. She had finished drawing water and the buckets were full. Believing she was unobserved, she was eying the rooftop on the other side of the courtyard. Jacob followed her line of sight, saw her note the skylight on the roof and assess the height of the next building. She had obviously not seen Tom and Jacob standing on the other roof. Jacob met Tom's amused gaze and smiled wryly. It was an excellent chance to confront her, and he seized it. He walked to the edge of the roof and scaled down the building.

The sound made her turn. Seeing him, she lifted the buckets, hurried across the yard and down the stairs leading to the kitchen and washhouse. It was washday and Liz had been given the task of filling the big wash kettle. It would take several turns, and she would soon return. Jacob decided to settle down on a bench by the water post and wait for her; there were no one else outside, lest the guards out of earshot, and he could speak to her alone. When she re-entered the yard, he saw her stiffen at the sight of him. She knew he had caught her red-handed, and now she expected a reprisal. She was uneasy, as was his intention. He did not want her to believe she could plot an escape without him finding out, and he wanted her to feel watched, to discourage her from attempting to flee.

When she started drawing water, he said, "Have you found any holes in our security yet?" The question made her jump slightly.

"I haven't tried to escape," she said. She made a point of watching the water level in the buckets as she drew water, and avoided to meet his eyes. He would not let her get away that easily. Smiling a devilish smile, he said, "You have not tried to escape yet, but we see your eyes wandering, searching for a way out."

Elizabeth made no reply, and Jacob continued, "I need to keep you safe, to prevent the Templars getting hold of you and the information your father was carrying. As I have told you before, the property is well guarded. There are guards on the street, in the yard and on the roof."

He caught her eyes whilst talking, and held her gaze. "So, have you found any holes in our security? If you did I would like to know."

Jacob knew her answer would be "no" whether she had found a way out or not. He still wanted her to say the word. Her mouth would say no, but the true answer would be in her eyes. Liz shot a glance at the guard on the roof. She had thought the roof was a way out, and was clearly disheartened to discover it was not.

"No," she said and looked away.

There were no signs of lie in her eyes; she was telling the truth.

"Good" he said.

To Jacob it was a confirmation the security was as it should be. Liz filled the buckets in silence and made to carry them back to the washhouse. Before she could lift them however, Jacob took them from her hands. "I told them you were not to do any of the heavy chores," he said. Somewhat baffled she followed him as he walked towards the kitchen stairs.

"I don't mind. My back doesn't hurt much anymore," she said.

He turned his head to look at her, walking beside him. She was not used to anyone making allowances for her sake, and her threshold for tolerating pain was set thereafter.

"I saw your face when you carried those last two buckets. Your back still pains you, and you can take it easy for a couple of days more."

Being seen, and cared for was a new concept to her. She had put up her guard and braced herself in anticipation of a reprisal and this act of care had her perplexed and had thrown her defences off, not sure how to react. Jacob bit back a smile, but it shone through in his eyes and shortly brought a pretty colour to her cheeks.

In the washhouse, the women were surprised to find Jacob carrying the water buckets. He put them down by the fire and turned towards Mrs. Cutler.

"I told you she was not to do any heavy chores," he said. "She is used to push herself beyond what is good for her. She would not tell you, but she is in pain for carrying those buckets. You just need to use your eyes to see it."

Mrs. Cutler turned a worried face towards the girl. "Liz, why did you not say something?"

"I did not think anyone would care," she answered quietly.

As Jacob left, he could feel her eyes burning on his back and smiled to himself. He found he enjoyed throwing her off.

/

Every afternoon dinner was served in the dining hall. The social gathering around a warm meal strengthened the bonds of the people on the base, solidifying their community, and dinner was the second, and most important of two common meals a day. During dinner, the dining hall was always warm and crowded, the air buzzing with the sound of chatter. When everyone had finished eating, more ale was brought out, and soon the room filled with the sound of laughter and good stories.

Jacob was sitting in the dining hall, drinking ale after dinner one night, listening to one of the Rooks telling a story of a Templar they once had toppled into the river, "…he had to be pulled from the water by his accomplices, soaking wet, and steaming with anger!" Laughter rung out, and when it died down John stole a glance at him and continued,

"Talking about steaming…, you should have seen the Boss as he came out the door at the doctor's last week." He pointed at Elizabeth, "That one had walked right passed all of us, and nobody had noticed. I don't know if he was angrier with himself, or her or us."

The room filled with laughter once more as Liz' face reddened. Jacob smiled to himself. Once someone was included in the community, their stories became a part of everyone's entertainment as well.

"How did you manage that, Liz?" someone asked. Elisabeth gestured to borrow a cap from one of the lads. She coiled the braid on top of her head, exposing the short hair underneath, and put on the cap.

"I was wearing trousers and the doctor's jacket as well," she said, smiling. The women laughed.

"She looks nothing like a lad. How could you ever mistake her for a man?"

Jacob had to agree. She looked nothing like a young man, the soft curve of her lips and the finely carved features of her cheek and brow was not masculine.

"The mind sees what it expects to see," he answered, laughing as well. She was a pretty girl, when pain and fright was no longer drawing lines on her face. Her blue eyes lit up when she laughed, like the clear sky of a summer day. It was quite a change from the steely grey they looked when she was angry, more like a brewing storm, he thought.

Jacob noted with satisfaction how Liz was laughing at the jokes on his expense, even if he was present. She no longer feared him as she had, showing him his plan was slowly working. The base offered friendship, safety and community, something she had not known before and she was letting down her guard and making friends.

A little later in the evening the soft tones of a violin trailed through the room, the notes slow at first, then growing in volume and running faster, soon to be joined by a flute. Tom and Liam were the source of the music, drawing dancers to the floor, the men picking partners among the women. Since their arrival at the base, dancing was a common occurrence, nevertheless welcome every time.

Jacob noted Elisabeth's long glances at the dancefloor, even if she refused the couple of lads who asked her to dance. He suspected she had never learned how. There was no cause for dancing in an orphanage. Jacob emptied his drink and walked over to where she sat together with Mrs. Cutler and a few other women.

"You will have to excuse Miss Cole for a while," he said addressing her company as he took her hand and pulled her to her feet. Elisabeth turned her head in surprise.

"Have I done anything wrong?" she asked.

"No, not at all. I'm just going to dance with you." He placed a hand on her lower back, leading her away from the table, in the direction of the music.

She dug her heels into the floor and turned to face him. Jacob rested his thumbs on his belt, knowing she would shortly sound a protest. Her cheeks flushed in embarrassment, and her eyes darted around the room.

"You are very kind, Mr. Frye, but I can't. I don't know how."

Jacob gently turned her around, leaned close to her ear and whispered.

"Then it's about time you learned to."

When she turned her head to look at him a lopsided smile tugged at the corner of his lip.

Out on the dancefloor he turned her around to face him, took a hold of her hand and drew her closer. Ignoring her uncertain awkwardness, he calmly lifted her arm and placed it on his shoulder. She swallowed heavily, and Jacob chuckled.

"Relax Elisabeth, this is supposed to be fun."

He took her slowly through the paces, counting and telling her what to do. She stumbled in her own feet a few times, but he ignored it, and slowly she caught on, but still her body was somewhat rigid.

When she stumbled in her feet for the umphteent time, she let go of him and stopped, sighing exasperated.

"I'm lousy at this. Just let me sit down will you?"

Jacob took her hand and pulled her back in.

"You're doing well, Elisabeth. You just have to let me lead. Now try to relax and follow me."

She shot him a look of doubt; of the praise or the advice, he was not sure, but suspected the latter. She was used to fight against, not follow and giving up control was not that easy. Jacob knew, having watched his sister learn how to dance, years ago. It was a good test of her will.

"I promise I won't bite," he said, as the doubt seemed to linger. She broke into a slight smile that actually reached her eyes. She closed her eyes with drew a deep breath, and then exhaled. With that, Jacob felt the tenseness leave her. They joined the dance again and a sense of conquer spread inside him as she followed lightly, let him guide her and seemed to enjoy herself. When the music stopped, John cut in and took her hand. Jacob was almost reluctant to oblige, but knowing it would aid the cause, he let her go.

/

Jacob was enjoying the task set to him. His determination to win her trust was as strong as ever. To him, it was not so much about finding the information, as conquering her mind and will. It was a test of his Rooks as well. A year ago, they had been a band thugs, unorganized and fighting amongst themselves. He had turned them into a force to be reckoned with; seasoned fighters and alert guards working efficiently at keeping the base safe. Jacob was proud of what he had accomplished.

The task never grew old or boring either as he saw the changes in her. It was a game of cat and mouse, where she was searching for a way out whilst unaware growing attached to the community. He was quietly steering her on and making sure there was no way out.

Then one evening, something happened that made her revert.

She was having a good time, sitting with the women in the dining hall, when one of them made a comment. Later Jacob learned it was an innocent remark on how Elisabeth contributed that day, and how difficult it would have been without her. He saw her mouth turn into a smile, but it never reached her eyes, instead sadness crept over her face as she looked away. A little while later she snuck out the door and went to her room.

From that moment, she changed; started to close up and withdrew from the others. Mrs. Cutler's concern with her grew day by day. She still contributed, but getting her to interact with the others was growing harder. Sometimes she forgot herself and blossomed, but soon she retracted again, keeping to herself as much as possible.

Jacob suspected he knew the reason for her actions. She was still planning to leave and the innocent remark had made her aware of what she would have to leave behind. After years of carrying the burden of her father's secret, she could not bring herself to believe it was safe to let it go, even if the temptation was strong. The fact that she was still a captive was partly contributing to it, Jacob thought, but letting her go was not an option.

What was worse, she was growing restless; leaving was the only way to end the turmoil of it all.

He could see it every day on her body language. Staying there and excluding herself was tearing her apart, and she was growing desperate to leave. The reports from the guards told him the same tale. Jacob felt for her, and he was vexed with her. Her stubborn conviction reminded him of his sister and her search for the Eden artefacts.

/

Jacob had spent the evening in the dining hall pondering how to turn her around. Once more, she had left the party early and gone to her room. He had started to follow her whenever she left to make sure she did not go wandering, looking for a way out. This evening she had forgotten herself briefly, and eased up a bit, but it did not last. Jacob stayed out in the hallway, until he heard the key turn in her door, before going back to the dining hall.

He sighed and took another drink of the pint in front of him. Deciding what to do next was proving difficult. He had the means to make her stay, but the trick was to make her want to. He was hesitant to force her as it could make her feel more trapped. Up until now, everything she had done within the base had been of her own choice, even staying in the first place, although her alternative had been a poor one.

Finding no answer to his problem, Jacob decided to turn in for the night. It was well past midnight and the last of the Rooks were leaving for their own quarters. They left the door to the stairway open behind them, and Jacob took a turn about the room blowing out the last of the candles. The house was silent, save for the steady drumming of rain against the windows. It had been pouring down all evening turning the yard outside into a hundred small puddles of muddy water. The overcast sky left no moonlight seeping through, and the darkness and rain was swallowing all shapes and muffling all sounds.

Jacob turned away from the window and was about to exit the room when he heard silent footsteps on the stairs. There was little doubt that someone were trying to descend the stairs without alerting anyone, and Jacob quietly made his way to the door and peered out into the hallway.

Elisabeth was standing in the doorway to the yard looking at the heavy rain outside. When she slipped outside, Jacob cursed under his breath and walked after her.

She had not attempted to escape yet, and he did not think she had found a way out. However, he knew she would try anyway, if she were desperate enough. He had sensed that moment growing closer for some time and had tried to find a solution to the problem. If she did escape, he would have to follow through with the consequence and lock her up. That meant a huge step back on the course of winning her trust. Now he hoped she was not about to do something stupid.

He stopped just inside the door, concealed by the darkness of the room, and embraced the eagle sense. The Rook guard was glowing green from across the yard, showing Jacob he had sought shelter from the rain, staying close to the wall. Liz was watching him from the other side, her white glow emanating in the darkness of the building. She shot a glance to the roof, trying to catch sight of the guard she knew was there, somewhere in the rain. The glow of the Rook showed Jacob his current location, on the opposite roof, his back turned to Elisabeth, but the rain obscured him from her view. Her hand stole up to her neck, fishing out the key hanging on a string inside her shirt. The key lay heavy in her open hand as she looked at it. She weighed it shortly and clenched it hard, before putting it back and turning her attention to the guard and the gate. She was on a verge of making a run for it, and Jacob would not let her go any closer to the edge.

Walking briskly out into the open, he saw her freeze in the corner of his eye. As he walked over to the Rook on guard, she silently stole along the wall, down the stairs to the kitchen and back inside the building. It had been a close call, and Jacob decided time had come to take action. He would have to put her under pressure, and see if he could make her break, before she attempted another escape. In the meantime, he made sure to double the guards.

/

During dinner the next day, Liz was sitting at the end of a table, taking no part in the conversation. The Rooks had persuaded Tom and Liam to play again that evening, promising them pay by way of drinks and cigars and the mood around the tables was one in anticipation of a merry evening. Jacob expected Elisabeth would try to leave unnoticed after dinner. He snuck out before the others had finished eating and took a seat on the stairs to wait for her.

When he heard the sound of the men moving tables to clear the floor, the door opened quietly, and Elisabeth stepped into the hallway. The buzzing of voices muted as she closed the door, and he saw her shoulders drop. The part of her craving company and friendship was tormented at letting it go, the inner struggle evident on her posture as she stood alone in the gloom. Jacob sat silently watching her. She sighed and turned to climb the stairs. When she saw him sitting there, blocking her way and waiting for her, she was startled.

"Where do you think you're going?" he said.

"I wasn't going to run," she answered, "I was just going to my room."

He smiled at her "I'll take back that key, then."

She looked dumbfounded, opened her mouth, but closed it again without speaking.

Jacob continued, "I told you: You will partake in the daily life and chores of the compound, and you swore you would. Daily life here is not just work, Elisabeth, it is play as well."

Unaware, she was clutching the key to her room again. A pained expression flashed across her face as she looked back at the door to the dining hall. This time the other part of her, the one obligating her to leave, was in turmoil. He felt a compulsion to reach out and comfort her, but held back knowing it would do no good. She still was adamant to rely only on herself.

Elisabeth suddenly let go of the key, realizing her hold betraying its value to her. Jacob bit back another smile as he rose to his feet.

"So what will it be, Elisabeth? Will you join the dancing tonight, or do I have to take back the key and lock you up?" Reluctantly, she smiled and turned around without replying. Jacob followed her back to the dining-hall.

Re-entering the dining-hall, Jacob found her a spot at the centre of a table, made sure to put a pint in front of her and left her there. In the middle of the crowd, it was hardly possible to stay reserved and he saw she was no longer trying to exclude herself. The ale soon got to her head, loosening her tongue, and easing her worries. The music was playing gaily, and when one of the men took her hand and led her to the dancefloor she came willingly.

She had been dancing for the best part of the evening, just disrupted by pauses to get something to drink, when Jacob cut in and took her hand. She followed lightly as he led her in the dance. Her eyes sparkling with enjoyment as she laughed, made him reconsider what he was about to do. She looked so content and happy; no one could think she was planning to leave. However, she was, and recalling her near escape the night before, made up his mind. The time had come to sway her.

When the music stopped, Jacob released her, but kept her hand in his as he collected a couple of pints and led her to the far table where they sat down aside from the others. Taking a small gulp of the cold ale, he watched her over the rim of his tankard.

She felt safe at the base now, and with no choice but to join the fun of the evening, the weight of worrying about staying or leaving was lifted from her shoulders. She drank deep from her ale, her cheeks burning red from the dancing. As she put the tankard down, a smile played on her lips.

Bracing himself for the undertaking, Jacob set his mind. It would either work or it would not, but he had to try. Turning his gaze to her, he caught her eyes.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" he asked quietly. She smiled in reply, nodding slightly.

"Then why do you exclude yourself from our company?"

The blunt question caught her off guard. Sadness crept over her face, her posture stiffened, and she looked down on her hands resting on the table.

"You choose to be alone, yet I know you do not want to." He took a sip from his ale, giving her pause to think. She had grown up surrounded by people, and yet she had always been alone, with no one to depend upon in the orphanage. He was prodding her most vulnerable spot on purpose.

"Please…" she said quietly, a pained expression spreading over her face. "Please, don't. I can't…"

"No, Elisabeth, you need to stop running. Do you really think your father intended for you to carry this burden? A mere child? A girl with no way to defend herself?"

She made no reply, just put her head in her hands and closed her eyes. He still had to push her further to get her to a breaking point. It was painful to see her like this, but by now, there was no turning back. Jacob raised his voice.

"Pure luck has held you alive so far, but that will not last, Elisabeth. We are fighting a war here. Do you really think you can take on the Templars alone? They know who you are now, and know you have knowledge they need. How long do you think you can last on your own?"

As before, provocation would get her where he wanted. He could feel anger rising within her as he continued.

"How would you fight them? You have no fighting skills! Where would you go? There is no safe place for you but here, as long as that information is not found!"

"He told me not to trust ANYONE! Not friends nor strangers!" she shouted as tears of grief and desperation filled her eyes. Abruptly she stood up to storm out of the room, but he rose quicker, caught her wrist and held her back. She wrung her arm in his grip, trying to pry his fingers off, but he was not going to let her get away when she was nearly there.

"Your father was trying to keep his three year old daughter safe, until you got back among his allies. He needed to make sure you did not give him away on the journey here. HE NEVER MEANT FOR YOU TO CARRY THIS BURDEN ALONE!" he shouted.

The conversation around them had quelled and everybody's attention turned to their high voices. Jacob paused for a moment and caught her in a firm gaze.

"We will not let you do this alone," he said, his voice sincere, calming her anger down.

Around the dining hall, the Rooks muttered their affirmation of Jacob's statement. She looked around the room, at the people who had taken her in and recognized what it meant; she was no longer alone. She stopped trying to pull away from his grip, her desperation slowly replaced by wary relief. Jacob could see the rest of her defences crumbling in front of him. Calmly he pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her as tears kept streaming down her face.