Chapter b245 /b

I sat on the bedge /bof the bbed/bb. /b“How many children do you

The question seemed to surprise het. “Two boys, Ss and… She swallowed hard. “And Joh. He was taken when he was just a baby. We never found him.b” /b

My pulse quickened. “How old would Job he now?”

“Twentyb–/bbfive/b, if he’s balive /b

Two years

older than me. Same as Dusk.

“Does he have any distinguishing marks? A birthmark, maybe?” I asked. “Something that might help identify him.”

“A mole behind his left ear,” she replied. “Like a tiny dark star.”

1 nodded, processing this information. Dusk didn’t have a mole there, but Shadow Organization often removed identifying marks from their operatives. I’d never specifically checked for a removal bscar/b.

“I hope he’s alive,” she whispered, “I hope someone bwas /bkind to him.”

“I’m sure they were.”

I bstared /bat the wall for a long bmoment /bbefore answering.”

As I stood to leave, she caught my sleeve. “Are y

byou /bSs’s friend? From school?”

“He’s had it rough,” she bsaid/b, her voice dropping to ensure Ss couldn’t bhear /bfrom the other room. “His bfather /bused to beat him. The kids at his old school bullied him. He stopped talking much, never had friends. He’s new at your school. Could you btalk /bto him sometimes? Pleaseb? /b

I bnced /btoward the door where Ss stood, clearly having heard every word.

“I can,” I said simply.

That night, I sat in my study, Captain curled at my feet as I hacked into Shadow Organization’s DNA database. It wasn’t easy–they d upgraded their security since myst intrusion–but nothing bwas /bimprable to me.

bI /bfound it within an hour: Job Murphy’s DNA profile and the gicparison to Tamara Murphy. 99.7% match–biological mother

confirmed.

I stared at the screenb, /bmemories flooding back. Dusk–or Job, as he’d been born–had been my only friend in that hellhole. We’d trained together since childhood, bpromised /bto escape together bsomeday/bb, /blive normal blives /bunder new identities.

Instead, I’d buried him.

b1/2 /b

If Dusk had lived, bSs /band his mother might have had a very different life. Perhaps with money for proper medical care, a decent ce to

live.

I deleted the files and purged all traces of my search. Then I sat in the darkness, letting the weight of this knowledge settle over me.

bCaptain /bsensed my mood, whining softly as heid his head on myp,

Sunday afternoon, I found Ss at an auto repair shop, bwearing /boil–stained coveralls as he worked under the hood of a Chevrolet.

A well–dressed man stood nearby, gesturing angrily. “bYou /bhaven’t bfixed /bshit! I’m not paying for this!”

Ss wiped his hands bon /ba rag. “I fixed the problem with your transmission. Test

drive it yourself.”

“Get out of my way,” the man snarled, reaching for the door.

Ss stepped in front of the car. “You need to bpay /bfirst. The car’s fixed. I just btested /bit myself.”

“Moveb, /bor I’ll run you bover/b,” the man

threatened, climbing into bthe /bbdriver’s /bseat.

I pulled my car alongsideb, /bput it in reverse, and mmed into the Chevrolet’s front quarter panel.

The impact was satisfying–precision damage to the body without risking deployment of the bairbag/b. I shifted gears and hit it again. And again. Each impact deformed the bcar /bfurther.

By the fourth hit, the owner was trapped inside, the door frame now too warped to open easily. His face had gone white with shock as he frantically yanked at the jammed door handle. Through the cracked window, I could see him desperately looking toward Ss, his mouth forming pleas for help. His hand reached out in a pathetic gesture, as if the same person he’d just threatened could somehow bsave /bhim from this situation.

his expression a mixture of disbelief and something else–something I couldn’t quite identify.

Ss stared at me, h

Chapter Comments

凸 3

Write Comments

SHARE