Page 42 of Body Tox

“Orphanage Evangeline was built in 1812 and houses twenty-three children currently. Outsourced to foster homes in the immediate area of…Anchorage.”

I thought about Evangeline Orphanage. It wasn’t far from the park. The voice changed, the eerie robot sounds disappearing and leaving a dial tone.

An agent came online.

“Echo, have you completed the mission? Do you need a cleaner?”

Things were not adding up. I took a deep breath. “Mission underway. I am looking for the target.”

The lie fell smoothly from my tongue, but the feeling of unease rose with that jack-shit information I just got.

“Confirmed. Goodbye.”

The phone made a popping sound, and the light screen flashed with a spark and smoke. I sighed, realizing I wasn’t getting any other information tonight. Chucking the smoldering phone into the trash bin, I walked to the swings, sitting down and swaying with my thoughts.

Why would I be targeting a dead man?

The only reason someone faked their death was if they were running…or maybe I was missing something.

The answers lay on that altar slab, but retrieving them was a whole different story. My mark clearly had experienced torture before, so there was no way his past had been an adventure in smooth sailing. He’d been alone throughout his childhood, and maybe if I went to the orphanage, I would get some information.

Either way, there wasn’t much else to do tonight. I sighed, my hands feeling unwelcomingly empty without my dagger.

I didn’t want to go back to my prison, aka home, but it was necessary for my toys. I hoped that my father wasn’t there. If he was, getting more blood on my hands was possible.

Thirty minutes later, I stood at the doors of my home, a pang filtering through my cold heart. The towering mansion felt even more empty and lonely than usual. I went around back, not giving a damn if the cameras showed me stalking around.

It was right to get my shit back.

I saw the ivy linking around the cracked concrete of the wall and figured out just how my ‘bodyguard’ must have constantly found a way into my house.

Pulling myself up on the foliage and tumbling into the bathroom on the far side of the hallway from my room, I picked myself up and dusted off the robe. I half wanted to run into a staff member, giving them a proper scare of their lives in the creepy ass nun robe I borrowed from the church.

No one was milling about the halls, and as I expected, the hallway was immaculate, the picture and door replaced like nothing ever happened.

I opened my room to find…nothing. My possessions, my clothes, and even my kiln were all gone. It was like I’d never existed in this space. The room was now set up like a library, and shelves were placed to hide the marks on the walls.

There were books with absolutely zero purpose stuffed inside the mahogany shelving units. The closet was sealed shut, with some type of fresh putty and paint over the seams of the opening.

Anger flooded my body.

He thought to erase me.

Pretend like I never existed, and because his company virtually killed me along with my mother the day she died, Ididn’t exist on paper or otherwise.

Hot tears blurred my vision, falling down my cheeks as I threw books off the shelf and yanked the binding of the leather hardback off the yellowing pages. I used the pointed end of a book cover to saw through the seam line inside my closet.

White dust was flying in my face and making me even angrier, but I kept opening the line until finally, the paint and fresh putty crap cracked, and my closet was able to open.

Inside were boxes. My clothes…everything I owned was shoved against the wall.

I threw off the ugly ass robe that was now covered in wall dust and ripped open one of the boxes. I grabbed my jacket, a bra, panties, and a long-sleeved sweater with some jeans.

After getting dressed and feeling somewhat like myself again, I walked to the back, opening boxes and dumping them out to search for my fucking jewelry box. Every single box was opened, but my jewelry box wasn’t in any of them.

Sliding down the wall and sighing in frustration, I thought about where that old fucking asshole would put it. Beside myself with anger, I left my old room and made my way through the familiar hallways to my father’s room.

I heard a couple of guards chattering in the corridor, and I ducked behind Harry in the plant room. He wouldn’t mind that I was here.

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