Page 72 of Deadly Sights

“Have you noticed for every obituary, there are articles about a murder investigation?” Julian pulls my chair next to his. “What’s the connection?”

“There’re medical examiner reports, too.” I stare at the screen as the dots finally connect. “I can’t believe this. The truth has been staring at us the whole time.”

Julian’s frown communicates he hasn’t made the link yet.

“What does every child at an orphanage have in common? Here’s a hint, it’s in the name.” I grab the keyboard to enter a search for a specific file.

“Orphan?”

“Exactly! As in, dead parents.”

“But that didn’t apply to you and me when we entered Creative Gifts, yet my file is in with the rest.”

I take his hand in mine before turning the monitor toward him. With eyes glossy from unshed tears, I watch for hisreaction, prepared to be his support. “What if I told you we aren’t exceptions?”

On the screen is his file and articles dated thirty-four years ago profiling the death of a woman who was murdered in her home. The last images are autopsy photos.

Julian reaches out to the screen, a denial on his lips. “This is around the time she dropped me off, but… Why?”

“We were all from vulnerable populations or broken homes. No one would look for us if we turned up missing, or put the resources into finding our parents’ murderers. The organization took our families from each of us.” I squeeze his hand to comfort him, unable to decipher the look on his face. “Julian? What is it?”

“I’ve known since I was ten that she died, and I mourned for her. But…”

“This is different. I still believe in my heart she would have come back for you, but she never had a chance.”

Julian pushed away from the desk and paced, his steps getting choppier and angrier with each word. “No, they took her life, and they stole my future. All our futures. They deserve to burn.”

I stand in front of him to prevent him from working himself into a frenzy. “I believe this is why I was so dangerous to them. If we revealed what we know to every kid from the orphanage, I bet most would seek their own form of vengeance.”

“Especially the ones that came from happy homes. Remember how they treated you as if you weren’t supposed to want to…go…back. Shit, Nadira. I didn’t think about you. You found all this while you were searching for clues for your parents.”

I hug myself and twist away. “Remember…” I take a deep breath to steady my voice. “I told you we aren’t exceptions.”

He wraps his arms around me. “Don’t close yourself off. I can’t stand that you’re mourning again for what you’ve lost, and… I know it’s selfish of me, but I don’t want to be alone in this pain either.”

I spin in his arms and hug him, careful of his wound. “You are the least selfish person I know.”

We lapse into a silence full of sadness. I don’t know how long we stand in each other’s arms, saying nothing. But slowly our pain begets a new emotion. On top of all the near misses we’ve had, the manhunt forcing us into hiding, this is the last. As Julian peers into my eyes, fury burns within the depths of his golden-brown irises; a rage that matches mine.

“Jason is our best bet at finding the ones responsible for our pain,” Julian says.

“If you reach out to him now, he’ll suspect your motives and probably set a trap for you.”

“If I may interrupt…” Alastair enters the room with a satisfied air although I see no reason for his smugness. “While you two were out causing me heart palpitations, I entertained myself with a look into the files again. We previously believed the analytics software only found outlier information. But from what I’ve heard you discuss, they purposely withheld any information about their headquarters. So I thought, what if someone made an error? With a thousand files, it was bound to happen.”

“Alastair, you’re saying a lot of words when I think you need fewer,” I say, the hope surging inside my heart making me flush and short of breath.

“Did you find an address?” Julian is way too calm for my liking, but he asks the question that gets to the core of our situation.

“After the stress you put me through, the least you can do is listen to the tale of my brilliance.”

“Alastair, how about we celebrate your genius once we’re in the clear? Until then, do you have an address?” I use my sweetest voice when I’d rather be anything but charming.

Alastair eyes us in disgust while feeling around his breast pocket. “I can’t believe I put up with this level of ingratitude.” He withdraws a piece of paper.

Julian and I read the information, and my excitement grows.

I hug and kiss Alastair on the cheek. “You are priceless. Run away with me?”

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