Page 50 of Sincerely, Secretary of Doom

“—being the second one, and my memory-thief being the first.”

Mor let out a long breath and tapped a finger against his folded hands. “There’s something else that’s different. You said you were thirteen years of age. All the human females being targeted now are several years older than that,” he pondered.

“Yes, but we all lost memories. That’s the worst part—the not knowing. Regardless of how long a period of time it was for each of us. You can’t imagine how valuable your memories are until you’ve lost them.” Violet gently banged her toe against the island cupboards when a quiet pause fell between them.

“You talk like youwantto remember your past. But sometimes it’s better to forget,” Mor finally said.

“Of course I want to remember.”

“Why?”

Violet tsked, wondering how he could be serious. “Because what if I lost something huge from that life? What if I was… I don’t know… a foreign princess or something? Or my parents were government agents, and that’s why they couldn’t come forward and claim me?” she asked.

Mor raised a brow, a teeny smirk pulling at his mouth. “You think you were a human realm princess?”

“I don’t know! But wouldn’t it be better if I at least knew for sure?” she asked.

Mor stared, his dual-toned eyes seeming slightly unfocused. “What if it wasn’t like that?” he asked in a low voice. “What if it’s better to forget, Human? What if your life was dreadful, and no matter how much you tried to forget, you couldn’t?”

Violet felt a heavy weight linger in his words.

“Do you have something you wish you could forget, Doom?” she asked, and his attention snapped back to the present.

“That’s none of your business.” He took a swig of his latte.

Violet mirrored him, sipping her tea. She thought about how he’d so easily looked into her memory of the alley with a simple touch of his fingers. Mor wasn’t the first fairy she’d ever met, and that realization alone sat like a weight on her chest. After all this time, she had an answer about what had happened to her that day in the forest. After ten years of searching, she now knew she’d been right to suspect the folklore and not the science. She’d been laughed at, she’d had her writing ridiculed, and she hadn’t been taken seriously because of it. Yet… Here was a creature of legend who could steal memories, sitting right across from her.

Violet studied the beautiful, tanned fairy on the other side of the island. “If you can take memories away from people, can you also return the ones they lost?” she asked. Suddenly she couldn’t believe she hadn’t thought of that until now. If Mor could let her see what had happened that day, and her whole life before that day, the mystery of who she was would be solved. She sat up straighter in her chair when he didn’t immediately say no.

“What happened when you woke up on the first day you remember? Tell me that bit,” Mor asked, ignoring her question.

Violet slumped back in her seat. She worked her jaw and smoothed down her shorts over her legs. She fidgeted with the handle of her mug, deciding she would try asking again later.

“I wandered from the park forest onto a busy street and into the nearest building, which just happened to be a local news station. It was a zoo after that. I became the mystery girl—a puzzle the whole city tried to solve.‘Who is the girl in the purple dress?’That was the first headline. The next was,‘Why doesn’t a single person recognize her?’It became like a game. Rewards were offered to anyone able to solve the puzzle, and I was hounded by private investigators.”

Mor folded his arms and leaned back in his seat. “The Shadow Fairy you met is named Luc,” he said. “He’s a nine tailed fox—something of an anomaly among fairies. It means even if I kill him, he’ll keep coming back. And I believe he didn’t arrive in the human realm until six months ago. That’s proof that whoever stole your memories was someone else.” He paused, chewing on the inside of his cheek. “And what is azoo?”

Violet wasn’t sure whether he was being serious. “You know, a zoo. Like where they keep animals in cages and people can walk around and point at them,” she said.

“Ah. Of course.” Mor nodded. “We have those in the Ever Corners, too. We call themstables. The royals go there when they wish to select a crossbeast to ride. They point like this.” He stuck his nose up and pointed at Violet. “And then the lesser fairies must get the crossbeast fitted with reins.” He took another sip of his latte. “Unfortunately,” he went on without missing a beat, “some of the lesser fairies don’t survive that part. Crossbeasts are quite temperamental.” He set his mug down and flicked a dollop of whipped cream off the brim.

Violet’s mouth hung open. The crazy part was that she still couldn’t tell if he was joking. When he didn’t crack a smile afterward, she grew more afraid he wasn’t.

“Okay. Anyway…” She pushed a loose hair behind her ear. “As for the actual newspaper stuff, I know I’m not the ideal journalist, but—”

“You’re perfect,” Mor stated. “You’re perfect the way you are. Don’t change a thing, Violet Miller.”

Her chest tightened. He hadn’t even batted an eye when he’d said it.

“…reading your articles is like reading a bad fiction novel.”Cedric’s words collided with Mor’s in a strange battle of voices in her head.

Violet dragged her mug up to her mouth and took a long gulp. She spied on him over the cup as he pressed his fingers against his bandaged side like he was testing the pain—he winced.

Violet set her tea back on the counter. “What do you need me to do for this job?” she asked.

Mor shrugged. “Keep The Fairy Post alive when I’m busy. Simple,” was all he said.

A disbelieving chuckle tumbled from her. “Simple? You think being around you is going to be simple?” She laughed for real now, filling the kitchen with cackles. Mor set down his drink.

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