Page 31 of Dark Endures

It’s kind of surprising that she didn’t sink one of her knives into Pit or Jacko a time or two.

“Louisella? She didn’t show up in my research.” Everett’s brows wrinkle. “I checked on everyone. How did I miss her?”

And we found a weakness. He likes…No, it’s more than that…He needs to know everything. “Louisella doesn’t exist. At least not on any database you’d look in.” Her husband, Matthew, ensured that happened. “And you don’t want to meet her until you give the money back.”

“There’s no way to delete a person from everywhere.”

I raise my eyebrow at him.

“You’d need... You’d need—”

“A better hacker than you. Be assured, though you are good, you’re still a child. There’s a whole world out there that you don’t understand yet.” One that could chew you up and spit you out if you’re not careful.

“Do you really help the kids?”

And that’s the first step. “Yes, we do.”

“Why?”

That answer is as simple as it is complex. “Because we were them. When I was younger than you, my shoes had holes in them, and I never had enough to eat. Even then, my brothers and I fought to protect those who had less than us.”

“But you’re rich. Stupid rich. How? How is that possible?”

“Three eccentric women and a lot of hard work.” Work that never seems to end.

“I won’t be your hacker. I don’t work for anyone but myself.”

“Fair enough. But I wasn’t going to demand you to do anything around here.” Except maybe eat.

“Really? Because with my skills, your millions could turn into billions.” Everett leans back with that confident attitude.

It’s another test. “We have more money than we’ll need. And more than enough to take care of any kids that need our help.”

“There’s never enough money.”

Pit laughs and spits chips. “Kid, you got a lot to learn about life.”

“Like you’re going to teach me anything I don’t already know.”

Punk kids… Smart punk kids seem even worse. “Pit, show him a parlor trick.”

A knife appears in Pit’s hand and then flies across the room into a scoreboard we set up years ago.

“That was so cool.”

“Your turn.” I hold out one of my own knives to the kid.

Everett stares at it.

“Don’t worry, it’s well-balanced.” And wickedly sharp.

“You’re all crazy.”

“We are.” That’s pretty much a given. “Do you want to stay, or have you heard enough?” I walk over to Enzo and bring Everett back his phone. “Your choice.”

He takes the phone and hits a few buttons.

Enzo was wrong. It wasn’t dead at all.

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