Page 13 of Devlin

“That is what it sounded like when Margarethe introduced us.”

Mia scoffed, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. “Devil. That’s apropos.” She nodded, exhaling sharply. “And yes, seeing him was a surprise.”

Farid smiled, his expression gentle. “Mal ya ca ma rot ke lo?,” he said in South Sudanese. “What is unexpected can be a blessing. That is what my mother used to tell me. Not all surprises are bad. Some may bring joy or opportunities.”

Mia swallowed the lump in her throat, the desire to cry nearly overwhelming. “I’m not sure there’s a blessing to be found in this.”

Farid’s smile deepened. “Then give yourself time to discover if there is some joy to be found.”

She doubted there was, but she nodded quietly and turned away, steeling herself for whatever came next.

The intake was quickly finished, and Farid handled the paperwork. When all items were checked off, Mia scanned thewarehouse, her gaze settling on her staff and the volunteers from the mission group diligently organizing the food supplies. From across the space, Margarethe waved her over. Mia sighed, knowing she couldn’t put off the meeting any longer.

“Farid, stay and oversee everything here. I’ll meet with Margarethe now.”

“She may be your superior but also your friend,” he said. “She will help.”

Mia managed a sad smile and nodded. “Never doubt that you’re also my friend.”

Farid’s smile broadened, and he bent slightly, dipping his head in acknowledgment. “Keec ci ok de lu?r ke mac. Friendship is like a tree that offers shade. Your friends will be your shade during this time.”

Inhaling deeply, Mia closed her eyes, counted to ten, then released the air from her lungs. With her head held high, she walked past the rows of food crates, making her way to the quartet waiting for her. She kept her gaze on Margarethe but could feel the men’s eyes on her as she approached. Her forced smile felt tight, her heart hammering as she avoided looking at Devlin’s face. She didn’t want to remember him from long ago as Jim, the man she loved. Nor did she want to see him as he was now. To guard her heart, she preferred to remember him as he’d been the last time she saw him—when he was a lying, cheating scum unworthy of her love.

Just as her thoughts spiraled into thatDevilishhole, Margarethe’s commanding voice cut through. “Let’s go to your office, Mia, so you can get me up to speed with everything that’s going on. I know you didn’t feel comfortable putting it in an email. Cole, Todd, and Devlin…it’ll be a tight fit, but I think it’s the best place for us to meet.”

Mia inclined her head, her throat tight. “Okay.” Her one-word response sounded ridiculous even to her ears, but beingclose to Devlin was the last thing she wanted. As she climbed the wooden steps to her small office overlooking the warehouse, she shook her head, dislodging thoughts of him.I don’t give a fuck what he calls himself. Maybe Farid was right. He is the devil.

The small landing at the top of the stairs felt cramped, with barely enough space for the group. Mia unlocked the door and stepped into her office. She’d never thought much about the size of her workspace before. Meetings with staff usually took place in the warehouse, where they’d stand or perch on wooden crates arranged haphazardly. But now, with her office about to host this group, it seemed starkly barren.

An old wooden desk sat against the wall, accompanied by an equally weathered chair. A laptop rested on its surface next to a locked filing cabinet. The only personal touch was a framed collage of photographs hanging above the desk.

Her gaze lingered on the images—one of her family on bales of hay in front of their barn and another from her last visit home, surrounded by extended family. A more recent photo was of her brother and sister-in-law, along with cousins and their families. In the center stood Mia. She had once loved that photo, but now it struck her how solitary she appeared amid the crowd.

Other photos captured moments from her work in various camps. One, a favorite, showed her surrounded by refugees as they received their first food rations. Their expressions radiated gratitude, a humbling reminder of why she did what she did. She hadn’t known the picture had been taken until someone presented it to her.

The clatter of boots on the wooden floor jolted her from her thoughts. Turning, she saw Devlin descending the stairs to retrieve the wooden folding chairs one of the workers had brought. He carried them back up, his movements deliberate. Mia glanced at the chairs and bit back a smirk. They lookedtoo flimsy to hold his weight. If one collapsed and sent him sprawling on his ass, she wouldn’t mind.

By the time the door was closed, she had insisted Margarethe take her chair, leaving Mia perched on the edge of her desk near the laptop. Devlin, Cole, and Todd formed a semicircle, and to her disappointment, each chair supported them without incident.

“Tell us what’s happening,” Margarethe prompted, her tone direct as always. “And elaborate, for the benefit of our security investigators.”

Mia opened her laptop, navigating to the files she needed. She avoided looking at Devlin and focused on Margarethe as she began. “As you saw downstairs, all the food delivered to this camp comes through here. This is our central delivery and distribution center. While we can’t always account for what happens before it arrives—whether it’s flown in or transported from an outside agency—we inventory everything as it’s unloaded. Discrepancies happen occasionally. Human error, or sometimes someone local helping themselves to a crate of tomatoes. Those we don’t worry about chasing down.”

She clicked on another file, continuing, “Once the food is secured here, our priority is maintaining the integrity of the distribution center to ensure the supplies reach the refugees in the villages.”

“And each village has its own distribution warehouse,” Margarethe added.

“Correct.” Mia nodded. “My staff and I oversee the distributions from here to the five villages. I’m also ultimately responsible for ensuring those distributions make it to the refugees.”

“That’s a huge responsibility,” Devlin said, his voice even but probing. “We’ve learned you have over a hundred thousand refugees.”

Her jaw tightened as her gaze snapped to him. “Yes, it is a huge responsibility. And like all my responsibilities, I take it very seriously.”

As soon as the words left her mouth, Mia recognized her tone was far from welcoming or encouraging. She closed her eyes for a second, reminding herself that, for whatever reason, he had come here to help. She wondered if he’d known she was at this camp, then recalled the shock on his face when his eyes landed on her.No, he had no idea I was here.She wasn’t sure if that made her happy, sad, or downright pissed off.

“You were saying?” Margarethe prodded.

“Yes, yes,” Mia said, dragging her thoughts back to the matter at hand. “I’m not at every intake or distribution, although I am probably present at over half of them. Farid is my second-in-command and has been at this camp for many years.”

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