Page 53 of Factory Controller

It’s an intoxicating thought, so much so that I ignore the fact that I’d most likely be caught and have to suffer the consequences. I’m normally not a violent man, but given the suffering Isabella has inflicted—not just on Heather and myself, but hundreds, maybe thousands of children—I think I’ll make an exception this time.

My heart skips a beat when Isabella enters the women’s restroom. This is my chance. I can slip in there and suffocate her with a hold I learned from a tribesman in the village. Depending on how long you hold it, your victim either passes out or dies.

It all flashes through my mind, gruesome details of a future headline. I could even make it look like she had a heart attack on the toilet. She’s not that old, but that doesn’t matter. People could still believe it.

Should I put an end to this evil woman, or shouldn’t I? I teeter on the edge before taking my first step toward the restroom, a grim, determined scowl on my face.

“Trent?”

I stop dead in my tracks and turn around to find Heather standing there, a worried frown marring her lovely features. “What are you doing? I’ve been worried sick about you.”

I nod, and her eyes narrow.

“You saw Isabella at my table.” It’s not a question, but a statement of fact.

“Yes, yes I did. I don’t know what she just said to you, Heather, but I do know she’s in that bathroom, all alone and unprotected, right this second. I can end this.”

“Trent, no.” Heather shakes her head and takes my hand in her own soft grip. “Please. As much as I hate her, you shouldn’t commit cold-blooded murder.”

“Ain’t nothing cold blooded about it. I’m hot and angry and pissed off.”

“Please,” Heather says, hanging onto my hand so I can’t cross the terminal’s busy thoroughfare and enter the women’s bathroom.

“Why do you care what happens to her so much?”

“I don’t. As far as I’m concerned, she can burn in hell forever. What I care about is what happens to you.” She pokes me in the chest for emphasis. “And you, you’re not a murderer, Trent. You don’t have to cross this line. You shouldn’t. If you did, you would turn into Isabella.”

“But I could stop this—”

“Trent, do you think her death will really stop the human trafficking ring?”

I let out a strangled groan. “No, but…”

“But nothing. Just let her go, Trent. Let her go.”

I grind my teeth with frustration as I watch Isabella stroll out of the bathroom. She looks at us and smiles. She remains immobile a few seconds before turning around and exiting the terminal. Heather tugs on my arm until I mutely follow her back to the restaurant.

“I can’t stand the idea of her getting away with this,” I mutter.

“She hasn’t gotten away with a damn thing…” Heather sighs. “Yet.”

“Yet? What do you mean, yet?” I cock my head to the side. “What did Isabella say to you?”

Heather hugs her torso and shudders, staring out in the distance.

“She said she knew things about the Factory, Trent. And what she said scared me to death.”

“What did she say?”

“She claimed she was working with them,” Heather whispers.

But that doesn’t make sense. If they were working with her, why would they have sent her to audit Sister Isabella’s organization?

“Okay, I’m missing something here. I thought you said they were a noble organization?” I struggle to keep an accusing tone out of my voice, but partially fail.

Her eyes narrow dangerously. “That’s what I thought, okay? Now I’m not so sure. She says that people in the Factory want to see the human trafficking continue.”

“Why would she tell you any of this? Is she trying to work out a plea deal with the Factory to spare her own life?”

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