Page 11 of The Silencer

Cole nods approvingly."That's what I like to hear.Now, get some rest.We fly back home tomorrow, but it won't be long before your next assignment.I’ll be in touch if I have a job for you.I think until you’re eighteen, either Jer or I will be on the job with you," he tells me.

Jer nods.“Yep, you’re one of mine, son.That means I take care of you.Now get some sleep.You’re going to need it.”

As I lie in bed that night, sleep eludes me.I keep replaying the moment of the kill in my mind.The shock on Bauer's face, the bloom of red on his shirt.But more than that, I think about all the children he can never hurt now.All the lives I've potentially saved.

And I think about my father, still waiting for justice.Someday, I'll face him again.And when I do, I'll be ready.

I am Emmanuel Dellinger.The Silencer.And I'm just getting started.

SIX

clodagh

My head feelsfuzzy as I try to open my eyes, and I hear the sound of hushed tones all around me.It's been two days since I was found in that God awful place.For the past forty-eight hours, I've listened to the doctors and nurses speak about me as though I can't hear them.

I force my eyes open, squinting against the harsh hospital lights.The sterile white walls and constant beeping of machines are a stark contrast to the dark, dank cabin where I spent the last two months.My body aches all over, but it's a different kind of pain now—the pain of healing rather than fresh wounds.

I hear footsteps approaching and quickly close my eyes again, pretending to be asleep.It's become a habit, a defense mechanism I can't seem to shake.

"Poor thing," I hear a nurse whisper."The doctor says she's got two broken ribs, a fractured wrist, severe malnutrition, and more bruises than they can count.And that's just the physical damage."

"What's going to happen to her now?"another voice asks."I heard her whole family was killed."

"Social services are working on it," the first voice replies."They're talking about putting her into foster care once she's well enough to leave the hospital."

My heart starts racing at those words.Foster care?I don't want to go with strangers.I want to go home, but home doesn't exist anymore.A lump forms in my throat as I think about Mammy, Daddy, and little Dylan.They're gone, and I'm all alone.

"Shh," the nurse suddenly says."I think she's waking up."

I feel a gentle hand on my arm, and I open my eyes and slowly turn to face her, blinking hard once again as the light hits me.

"Hello, Clodagh," the nurse says softly."How are you feeling, love?"

I try to speak, but my throat is dry and sore.The nurse quickly brings a cup of water with a straw to my lips.As I sip, I notice the cast on my left wrist and the bandages peeking out from under my hospital gown.

"It hurts," I manage to croak out.

The nurse nods sympathetically."I know, sweetheart.You've been through a lot.But you're safe now, and we're going to take good care of you."

I want to believe her, but after everything that's happened, it's hard to trust anyone.As she checks my vitals and adjusts my IV, I can't help but wonder what's going to happen to me now.Where will I go?Who will take care of me?

The thought of being sent to live with strangers terrifies me almost as much as the memories of that dark cabin.I close my eyes again, wishing I could wake up and find that this has all been a horrible nightmare.But I know that's not going to happen.This is my reality now, and somehow, I have to find a way to live with it.

As I drift back to sleep, I silently pray for strength.I survived that monster; I can survive this too.I have to.For Mammy, for Daddy, for Dylan—I have to keep going.But deep down, I wonder if I'll ever feel safe or happy again.

* * *

The next few days pass in a blur of doctors, nurses, and police officers asking questions.I try to answer as best I can, but it's hard to talk about what happened.Every time I close my eyes, I see his face, feel his hands on me.The nightmares are constant.

It’s day four in the hospital when a woman in a neat suit comes to see me.She introduces herself as Ms.Parker from social services.Her voice is kind, but I can see the pity in her eyes.

"Clodagh, sweetheart," she says, sitting in the chair beside my bed."I know you've been through a terrible ordeal.I'm here to talk about what happens next."

I nod silently, dreading what she's going to say.

"We've been looking into your family situation," she continues."I'm afraid there are no close relatives who can take you in.So, we're going to need to find you a foster family."

The words hit me like a punch to the gut.No close relatives.Of course not.They're all dead.

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