Three Hours EarlierDevon opens his eyes.He shuts them back again when the light stings his eyes. Why's the light so fucking bright? It takes him a moment to take in his surroundings and figure out where he is. There's a machine beeping somewhere behind him, but he can't look. There's an IV in his arm. He realizes he's at the clinic, but what he can't figure out is how he got here in the first place. That bitch Antonia got him, he felt that bullet pierce his soul before his vision blackened.He hears a knock on the door. It's light, yet demanding. Like whoever is out there is demanding to be let in. He closes his eyes just as the door opens. He hears heavy footsteps coming in his direction. Someone looks down at him and stares at him. He already knows it's Sam."What do you want?" he manages to ask."By the Lord, Devon," Sam shakes his head, "Even after a near death experience, you're still an asshole.""Was it you who found me?""What do you think?" Sam replies. "I wanted to call th
I reach under my mattress. I stare at the white piece of paper that could possibly be my brother's ticket out of jail. I pray silently for this letter to have what I need, a name is all I need. It could all end so simply, without more bloodshed.I take a deep breath before tearing the envelope. I stare at the paragraph written on the unlined paper. Sure enough, the letter is riddled with symbols and abbreviations and I can't understand a thing it says. NN, x¢b, I can't make sense of any of this. It makes me so mad that I ball it up in frustration, but then I smooth it back out.Giving this to Devon could be beneficial, he might be able to decipher this and get a clue, but that will have to wait until he's out of the clinic. I don't trust Sam Henry, and I'm not quite sure when I came to that conclusion. There's just something undeniably shady about him, like he isn't always being sincere.I fold it in half and shove it back under my mattress again. Stealing letters isn't going to help
Trevor Brown throws the picture frame on the floor.For hours, he's been searching the basement of their home for clues. He knows he's seen the girl who works for the Kellers somewhere. Her face, he wouldn't forget it. He's pretty sure he's seen her somewhere, though he has no idea where.There are boxes everywhere from when they packed everything away to make 'space'. They emptied out all the backrooms where their other employees used to stay, and some of the rooms upstairs. Danny's idea. Their home became some kind of military base, and they needed all the room they could get.Malcolm appears at the doorway and starts descending the rickety stairs with a cackle. Trevor grits his teeth. For days, no one's been giving him a break. Everyone's busting his balls about the 'mystery girl' as they dubbed her."Was she your girlfriend?""Who knows? She might be your soul mate, Trevy.""He's psychic now, our boy.""Maybe you saw her in your wildest dreams."Dreams? He never dreams. Besides, h
After hearing me utter the name of the man who killed Rodrigo Santos, they placed their tumblers on top of Damien's desk and filed out of the office. Ethan glanced at Damien before following after them, no doubt to accompany them outside.Now, Damien and I are alone in his office.He crushes his cigarette against his crystal ashtray. He looks up at me briefly, and it makes me nervous. I don't know what else he could possibly want from me."If that's all, Mr. Keller—""Are you sure the man who killed Rodrigo and Thomas is named Trevor?"I frown. This again? He's starting to make me question my hearing abilities. Yes, the shorter bald man called him Trevor. "Yes, I'm sure.""You didn't hear a surname, perhaps?""They only mentioned the Browns."Damien nods, but it doesn't feel like he's listening to me. I don't know what's wrong with him. He lights another cigarette. "I should've killed that fuck when I had the chance. Ethan was right, he's always right."I don't think he's talking to m
Malcolm glances at the picture. He raises his brows. Trevor is pleased with himself. He's managed to stun everyone in the room. Now, they'll think twice before they laugh at him again. "You were right, who would've guessed?"Danny takes the photograph from Malcolm. They discarded the frame long ago. Her picture has been passing around for the last half hour. "Are you sure it's her, Trevor?"Trevor crosses his arms. "So I'm blind now?""It's her," Malcolm confirms. "I saw her with my own eyes. Trevy asked me if I recognized her, but hell. I said no. I never saw that photograph before, and how would I have guessed?""And you found this in the basement?""Yes."Nate says, "This is too fucked up to be real. There's been a mistake, there has to.""No, no," Malcolm wags his finger. "Trevor is good with faces, we all know that. And I'm telling you it's her. Besides, this was amongst the old shit in the basement.""How is that possible?" Danny wonders aloud.Trevor doesn't care about the hows
We've been in this car for too long.The sun is starting to set and every part of my body is numb. These men are literally squeezing the light out of me. We got here about four hours ago. It's a large single-storey building, painted white. When we first got here, there were no cars around. But slowly, it's starting to get packed and a lot of cars park beside ours. So this is a parking lot, but what are they all doing here? Everyone keeps going inside, but I have no idea what this place could be.I manage to spy a woman wearing sparkly lingerie walk by the car. So, this must be some kind of club, but what are we doing here exactly and why are we waiting in the car? Why did he bring me along? This feels a lot like waiting. Damien is calm, though, and he hasn't said a word since we got here.My phone vibrates occasionally, but I ignore it. It could either be my mother or Sam, and there's no way I can talk to either one of them in here. The air conditioning is on, but I'm sweating. It's p
Yara leaves his office.He's confident that he made the right decision. She hasn't been around that long, but she's proving to be as loyal and useful as her cousin. There aren't a lot of people like her in his employ; no one is unquestionably loyal anymore. Everyone comes with a price tag. He rarely trusts employees; in fact, the only one he trusts is Nora, who worked for his father for years, but she isn't as efficient anymore and for weeks she's been complaining about needing 'a damn break'. The Huxley girl—Yara—is the only suitable candidate at the moment. Besides, he's done his research on her, some background check, and everything he saw pleased him immensely.He knows Ethan and Theo will be against his decision.Neither of them like her, for some reason, but like and trust are two completely different things. He doesn't need likeable people on his side, he needs people he can rely on. She's been through enough and has never thought of quitting.She's never left the small town sh
Sam called earlier. I have to meet Devon today. He's out of the hospital and has moved to a new apartment. Someone will pick me up and take me there later today. That's all I was told.I've already informed Sam about my promotion and he was more than pleased, but there's something else he isn't telling me. I could hear it in his voice when he told me that there's something we have to talk about tonight. Something urgent, I suppose.I start working as a secretary today. I don't have to wear the uniform, I can wear whatever I like. I don't know the first thing about filing or even what I'm actually going to do, but I guess I'll find out. The good thing is, Nora gave me a few tips last week. I even spent an hour with her, just watching her make calls and type letters. Yes, she types the letters. Ethan hands it to her on a piece of paper and she types the symbols down. Which means I'll be doing it from here on out.It's a perfect opportunity to decipher them.Maybe looking at them every d