Page 79 of Trapping His Assassin

EPILOGUE

Isadora Paéz

Seventeen Years Old

The Academy

I hatedliving in this old church. The Academy I was forced to live in was an old church, with catacombs running through the basement, which no one but a few knew about. I spent extensive time down there when I was younger.

Just the thought had me running full force on the treadmill, my legs burning, lungs screaming for air, but I didn’t care. I needed the pain, the numbness it brought, to keep the chaos in my mind at bay. My shoes pounded the belt beneath me in a frantic rhythm, drowning out the noise of everything around me. The gym was mostly empty, just the way I liked it. I could pretend, just for a little while, that I was anywhere else but here.

Lost in the steady thrum of my own heartbeat, I barely noticed Valentina’s approach. She always moved so quietly, like a ghost haunting these hollow, sterile halls. I caught a glimpse of her out of the corner of my eye, just before she reached over and slammed her hand on the red emergency button.

The treadmill jerked to a stop, and I stumbled, catching myself on the handrails before I could hit the ground. My chest heaved as I steadied myself, disoriented and annoyed.

“What the hell, Valentina?” I snapped, yanking the earbuds from my ears. My pulse thundered in my ears, adrenaline still coursing through me. I turned to face her, wiping the sweat from my forehead with the back of my hand. She looked nervous, her eyes darting everywhere but at me. Something was wrong.

“Are you running another sewing class?” I asked, trying to keep my tone light, but I could feel the tension radiating off her. My stomach twisted. I could read Valentina better than anyone, and the look on her face wasn’t good. I waited for her to answer, but all she did was shake her head, her mouth pressed into a tight line. My irritation faded, replaced by a growing sense of unease.

“What’s going on?” I pushed, my voice lower now, tinged with anxiety. I hated when she got like this; skittish and quiet, like she was holding back something awful. She finally met my eyes, and the sadness there made my heart drop.

“Headmaster Mikhail wants to see you in his office.” Her voice was barely above a whisper, each word heavy with dread. I froze, the air around me thickening, suffocating. My stomach clenched, as panic clawed its way up my throat.

“No,” I said automatically, shaking my head, as if denying it would make it untrue. The last time I’d been called to his office, it had nearly broken me. I’d spent weeks recovering from the injuries, both physical and mental, and the thought of going through it again made me want to be sick. My hands shook as I wiped my sweaty palms on my leggings.

Valentina just stared at me, her expression a mix of anger, fear, and helplessness. She couldn’t change it any more than I could. My mind was spinning, replaying the last time I’d been dragged to Mikhail’s office, the cold steel of restraints againstmy skin, the sound of his voice, sharp and commanding. I didn’t know if I could do it again.

My head spun, and I felt myself slipping away, retreating to that place inside where the fear couldn’t reach me. I’d learned to dissociate during the worst moments, to shut down and disconnect, even if it was just for a while. It was a survival mechanism, one that kept me sane when the world around me was falling apart. I stared blankly at Valentina, my body here but my mind far away, safe in a void where nothing could hurt me.

She must have noticed because she squeezed my arm, snapping me back to the present. I forced a bright, empty smile, the kind I’d perfected over the years. “Guess I better not keep him waiting, huh?” I said, trying to sound unfazed, but my voice cracked at the end. My heart pounded, each beat a reminder of the terror I couldn’t quite hide.

Valentina’s eyes welled with tears, and she looked away, blinking rapidly. I hated seeing her like this—so defeated, like she’d already given up on me. I knew she couldn’t protect me, no one could, but it still hurt to see her look at me like I was some lost cause.

I brushed the white streak of hair out of my face, feeling a pang of bitterness. My poliosis was just one more thing that made me different, a glaring reminder of how messed up my life had become. Sometimes, I wondered if the patch where my hair lacked color was seeping into my soul, draining me of whatever strength I had left. But I couldn’t afford to think like that. Not now.

As we walked out of the gym, Valentina reached for my hand. Her grip was warm but trembling, and I knew she was trying to offer me whatever comfort she could, even if it was pointless. My legs felt heavy, my steps slow, every inch of me resisting the pull toward Mikhail’s office. I tried to distract myself, imagining Valentina’s made-up trips to faraway places, her voice chirpingon about exciting flights and adventures. Anything to keep my mind off what was waiting for me behind that door.

We stopped in front of the Headmaster’s office, the door looming like a dark, menacing mouth ready to swallow me whole. Valentina squeezed my hand one last time, her eyes pleading with me to be strong, to endure just a little longer. I tried to muster up some of that strength, but all I felt was fear.

“Isa?” Valentina turned to me. “I love you so much. I’m going to miss you while I am away.” She knew people listened and watched everywhere within these walls.

“I’ll be fine,” I lied, giving her the same bright smile I’d been faking for years. But we both knew the truth. I wasn’t fine, and I hadn’t been for a long time.

Valentina pulled me into a quick, tight hug. “Remember what I said, Isa. I love you. Hold onto that,” she whispered, her voice thick with unshed tears. I nodded, holding onto her for just a second longer, before pulling away.

I watched as Valentina hardened her heart against my troubles, so she could do whatever awful assignment Headmaster Mikhail required.

I took a deep breath, squaring my shoulders as I reached for the doorknob. My hand was shaking, but I forced myself to turn it, stepping into the lion’s den once more. The door closed behind me with a heavy click, and I was alone, the familiar terror settling in, as I prepared myself for whatever fresh hell Headmaster Mikhail had in store.

“You may leave,” he’d addressed Valentina, never taking his beady eyes off of me.

He said nothing more until the door was closed. “Have a seat, Isadora. Do you know why I called you in here?”

I shook my head no. “Did I do something wrong, Headmaster?” It was best to play stupid. Maybe he would have an off night, and send me back to my dorm with a lecture.

He shuddered at the sound of his title coming out of my mouth, ick. “Not wrong per se, my child. I’ve had some troubling reports of your behavior.”

He moved the paperwork on top of his desk, like he had the real report right in front of him, and not that it was made up bullshit from the other teachers. Women sometimes could be frustrating.

---