Page 145 of Chosen Beta

“The files were all coded. He had different files for different locations. This is everything that was in the academy file. There’sjust one patient I couldn’t identify. He used numbers instead of names. I checked and double checked the names I was able to work out. I found proof for all of them, so they’re definite. That last one, though …” She shrugs. “I couldn’t find a single way to identify her.”

I unfold the paper and read through the list.

There are eight names written next to numbers, with a question mark at the ninth number.

“Funnily enough, my own name wasn’t in the academy list. He gave me my own file. Lucky me.”

“Do you have the file for the ninth patient?”

“Oh, yeah, give me a second,” she says, before she pulls another slip of paper out of a hidden back pocket. It looks thin.

“That’s the file?”

“It’s the main points of the full file,” she admits. “The actual file looks like a whole book written in graphs, bar charts, hieroglyphics and some fucked up version of numerology. It took forever to translate. I had to ask the Alpha Alliance for help. They had this expert in code cracking come take a look. He was amazing, but he did eat all the cookies I baked, so Frost said he’s not allowed back in the house.”

She rolls her eyes, but it’s easy to see the love she has for her mates.

She’s practically glowing with happiness.

“I’m sure Frost didn’t really mean that,” I tell her.

“Well, I’m sure he did mean it,” she says, “but if Damian wants to earn himself another plate of cookies, I’m more than happy to supply them for his help. Identifying these Omegas was just the first step. Getting the extra info that helped me work out who they were was step number two.”

“There are steps involved? Is there a step number three?” I ask, as I look over the second slip of paper.

“Working out what my father was brainwashing them for. What, or who, really.”

Part of me wishes I didn’t ask. I get the shivers when I think about what Brooke’s father did to her. It’s truly fucking awful. Then, it hits me.

“You’re thinking each of these Omegas were brainwashed specifically for someone?”

The horror of that question is still sinking in as I wait for her answer.

She nods. “Basically, I’m thinking he had clients who might have picked the Omegas out when my pathetic excuse for a father told them about his brainwashing “system” or whatever the fuck he was calling it.”

“Shit.” I look at the list of names again.

I recognize more than a few. The Omega I have working on reception is one of them.

No pattern stands out. They’re all Omegas, sure, but they all look different and have different interests. The age range is all over the place, too. Brooke’s theory makes sense. They’re each meant for something specific.

“I have to tell them.”

“We can tell them together, if it helps,” Brooke offers.

“That would be great.”

It’s not going to be easy, but at least Brooke has been in their shoes.

“Do you want to leave Erika to the end, or …” Brooke starts.

Oh, no. Erika. She’s so cheerful and sweet. This is fucking awful.

The thought of losing her as a receptionist makes me tired, but I’ll understand when she tells me she can’t do it anymore. This isn’t the kind of information anyone can just shrug off.

I shake my head. “We should speak to her first. It wouldn’t be right to leave her waiting.”

“Okay. So, do you have any guesses to who the ninth girl could be?”

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