Page 41 of Ruin My Life
Groggy and slow, she tilts her head up toward the light. Her hair shifts, cascading past her cheeks and falling away like the velvet curtains at the unveiling of a masterpiece.
Freckles dust the bridge of her nose, fading into the flushed pink of her cheeks—residual blood rush from being carried upside down. Her lips press into a tight line, and her brows twitch as the sedation fades, irritation overtaking her confusion.
Then her eyes open.
They blink against the harsh light, unfocused at first, but when they land on Monroe, they sharpen instantly—like a blade finding its edge.
Hazel, if I had to find a word to describe their colour. but they’re like nothing I’ve ever seen before. Gold rings her pupils, bleeding into a soft green that glows under the overhead light.
It triggers something—a memory I almost forgot I had.
Sea glass.
The kind my mother used to find on Brighton Beach, just after a storm. She’d polish the shards into smooth beads, wrap them in wire, and string them into necklaces she’d sell for cash. Her niche was matching the colours to people’s eyes, and she’d spend hours searching for just the right colours.
I remember crouching beside her, digging through wet sand and broken shells for the brightest pieces. I was ten—too young to help in any other way. I thought it was the least I could do to contribute.
There were greens, blues, and ambers—occasionally golds that sparkled like real jewels.
But hers…
Nothing in that sand could ever resemble all the colours I see in her eyes.
“Brianna Rosenberg,” Lee announces from his desk, snapping me back to the present.
I clear my throat, which is suddenly dry and tight. “What do you have on her?”
Lee swivels his monitor toward Chavez and me. “She’s twenty-two. Student at MIT. Computer science major who won a few academic awards last year in software development. Probably explains how she managed to break into your system so fast.”
“They teachhackingat MIT now?” Chavez asks, one brow arched.
“No,” Lee snips, “but they teach the foundation. She just built the rest herself. Hacking is similar to deciphering codeso you can understand and manipulate a system’s structure—and she’s better at it than most I’ve seen.”
I nod, my eyes still drawn to the feed. She’s alert now, blinking slowly as she takes in the room.
She may be tied to a chair, but the look on her face is barely irritated—like she was just shown into a tiny hotel room that doesn’t live up to her standards.
“Find everything,” I tell him. “I have a hunch she won’t give up whoever hired her unless we find leverage.”
Lee nods and goes back to typing, the clack of keys echoing through the small office.
I roll up the sleeves of my black shirt, ignoring the creases that’ve set in since yesterday. It’s nearly one A.M. now, and I know this won’t be quick.
I glance at Chavez who’s leaning against the edge of the desk, his arms folded over his chest. “Think I can charm her into giving me what I need?”
He snorts. “She probably already knows enough about you to see through all your usual lines.”
I don’t smile.
Because he’s probably right.
Chapter Eight
Brie
IDON’T KNOW HOW LONGI’VE BEEN OUT,or where they’ve taken me. Numbness still lingers in my legs from whatever drug they pumped into my system, and the ache in my neck pulses so deep I can’t even turn my head without wincing.
Fingers tap against my cheek—soft, rhythmic, persistent.
