Page 25 of Sinister Intentions

No. I fucked up their lives enough by getting them kidnapped. Fee and Sophie sacrificed themselves for me and Cara back in that dark basement. Even after Sophie was gone, Fee’s determination never wavered.

I could not fuck it up for them. Not again. This was my shit to deal with. My responsibility.

Now the question was, did I trust Iset enough to meet up with her and join forces?

I opened the camera roll on my phone and stared at the digits I’d jotted down and photographed.

Fuck. I really didn’t know what to do.

I moved to another photo—one I hadn’t looked at for quite some time. The image of smiling children filled me with a senseof happiness. I’d started volunteering at the emergency shelter through our church a couple summers ago. Thank God, Dad had been borderline ecstatic when I’d asked for permission.

My thumb scrolled through the pictures, each one a snapshot of joy amidst the harsh realities these kids and their mothers had faced. A young girl with pigtails—Carly—beamed at the camera, clutching a new stuffed animal to her chest while her mother pushed her on the new swing set. A swing set afforded through an anonymous donation.

A pang of emotion gripped my chest. This was why I did what I did, why we did what we did.

To provide these kids with what they needed while taking from those who already had too much and who acquired it through illegal means or exploiting others’ weaknesses—especially someone’s gambling addiction.

If I took on a new identity, a new life, could I go back to volunteering? Could I make a tangible difference in the lives of those who had been left behind by society?

I might’ve been born into the privilege of my family’s dirty business…didn’t mean I had to accept it.

Never accept what is. If you can change it. You must.

That was one of the last things my mom taught me before she died.

I went back to the picture of Iset’s number, searched my bag for a piece of paper, and jotted it down again.

My gut told me she was on my side. We’d had too many conversations. If anyone had the same values as I did, it was her. And I was almost certain Iset was a woman.

I would take the risk.

Without taking risks, living is merely existing—another one of my mom’s teachings. Maybe I remembered more of her than I thought I did.

And I didn’t want to live without making an impact.

So what if I was facing threats? It all seemed insignificant compared to the impact I could have. These children, these women, were helped by me.

And I would find a new way to contribute.

Maybe this time legally, which made me smile. Leaving this life behind would open up a whole new world of opportunities.

I would find my own way, for sure.

I abruptly stood and startled Fee next to me. “I need to make a call; I’ll just be a second.”

She stared at me, and I could see the concern in her eyes. I would bet anything she would be on the phone with Sophie or Cara in the next couple of hours staging an intervention.

I winked at her and grinned. “Chill. It’s just a phone call. I’m not planning on doing anything crazy…” Yet. Though I would need to get away later if I wanted to meet with Iset—and Fee had already been suspicious when I ran out this morning to meet Mr. Slatov.

Fee nodded, and I grabbed my bag and my phone and went towards the entrance.

Should I call or text?

And where would be the safest place to meet?

I took a deep breath and steeled my nerves as I stared at the digits scribbled on the crumpled piece of paper. Would it be awkward? How should I introduce myself? Maybe I should just text her and take it from there.

What would happen then?

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