Page 9 of Stalk

light brown eyes.

Address: Oakwood Towers, 11930

Columbia Road NW, Apt. 337

Profile:

Helena is a single mother of two boys, ages five and one and a half. After recovering from a crystal meth addiction in 2018 when she became pregnant for the first time, she fell back into the addiction in 2020, then again after the birth of her second son in 2023.

Helena has been unemployed since 2018 and makes her rent by acting as a sex worker. Because of her drug usage and inability to provide a stable home for her two children, both of her sons were taken out of her home in February of this year. Each child now lives with their respective father. After losing custody of her children, Helena’s drug usage has increased exponentially. She also has an unhealthy relationship with alcohol.

Helena rarely leaves her apartment, unless she is on the streets seeking work. Her “boyfriend,” Christopher Francis, is her primary drug dealer, and brings the drugs to her. Christopher is often absent, and has been seen with various other women in the city. He typically comes to Helena’s apartment twice a week to drop off drugs and alcohol and to have sex with Helena before leaving. Christopher visits most frequently on Tuesday evenings at approximately seven o’ clock and Sunday evenings at approximately nine o’ clock.

Helena rarely practices her sex work inside of her apartment. Instead, she carries out the act in the male’s home or in the male’s vehicle, though she will perform fellatio at night in small alleyways when necessary. Helena typically works between eleven at night and three in the morning.

Helena will leave her apartment to buy minimal groceries at the market across the street from herapartment or leave to purchase cigarettes at the smoke shop off of Harvard Street NW and 14th Street NW.

Since her drug habit began, Helena has been cast out from her family, though they live in Woodbridge, Virginia. She does not have any close friends of note, but will occasionally hang out on the street with other sex workers and addicts.

The person who submitted the request for Helena Taylor’s extermination asks that the act be carried out as quickly as possible. They also ask that the extermination takes place in Helena’s apartment.

I can’t help but focus on the fact that aside from Helena’s struggles with substance abuse, the report doesn’t includeanythingabout what happened before she went down this path of destruction. This kind of situation doesn’t happen overnight. Was it an abusive ex-boyfriend? A traumatic experience, or more? Then again, why would the report bother telling me something so intimate about the life I’m supposed to take? It’s not supposed to be my business to care, but I do.

Some people might think this world is better off without another drug addict and sex worker. But after reading her profile several times, all I can think is that there are two young boys out there who miss their mother. They have to be so confused right now, not knowing why they can’t be with her. And now that Helena’s profile is in my hands, those two babies will never get a chance to know their mother—or see her alive ever again.

Emotion clogs my throat at the same time my chest tightens in pain. This case hits me in a way the others before it never did. Despite my resentment toward my mother that I’ve felt ever since I found out about her line of work, I still miss her. We were close, aside from her not telling me the most vital thing about her life. She died when I was eighteen, and that was much too soon. Especially with my absent father. I can only imagine the heartache this will cause Helena’s boys, both now and in the future.

I slam my laptop shut with a shout. Catherine gave this assignment to me on purpose—I just know it. Ever since she figured out I’m bad at being a cold-blooded killer, she fucks with me. She gives me the cases she knows will fuck me up in the head. Says things that seem perfectly normal at first, but as I think them over in her absence, become much more sinister. Catherine has a whole house full of killers, yet she chose to give me this one, to take this mother away from her children, when I just lost mine three years ago?

“Fuck you, Catherine Burdick,” I whisper to myself. “Fuck you.”

CHAPTER 5

Mattia

Monday creeps up on me before I can get my bearings. I’ve just finished packing my toiletries when a harsh knock sounds on the other side of my bedroom door. I know it’s Zìa because Giorgia has a light knock, Mamma rarely intrudes into my personal space, and my other sisters do not often make an effort to come and see me one on one.

“Si accomodi!”I yell.

The door swings open, and there she is. Zìa waltzes in, barely five feet tall in her wedged heels. She smiles as she stops in front of me, then we kiss each other’s cheeks.

“Almost ready?” she asks, arching a perfectly lined brow.

I nod. “Just have to grab my laptop bag.”

“Grande.Meet me downstairs in ten minutes, and we will go to the airport together. Please ensure while you are gone that you keep that laptop locked and protected at all times.” Zìa snorts. “You know how those Americans are…ficcanaso!”

I can’t help but laugh, too. Nosy Americans. As ifweare not also nosy. “I know, Zìa. I will be careful.”

She leans in and kisses me once more on the cheek. “See you downstairs.”

With that, she twirls around and saunters off. I’m left alone in my giant, lovely room. The absence of which will surely make me feel homesick as soon as I get settled in the United States. I blow out a giant breath, mentally go through the checklist of everything I need to bring with me, then zip up my bag. After that, I grab my laptop case after ensuring my laptop and charging cable are safely tucked away inside, then I grab my bags and head downstairs.

Mamma, Zìa, and Giorgia see me off. Once I’m up the small set of stairs that lead into our private jet, I take my seat at the back and glance out the window. Mamma and Zìa are already walking away, toward their private car, but Giorgia waits until I’m seated and looking out the window. She sends me a wave and blows me a kiss, which I return with a smile. Then, she follows the others, and I am left feeling all alone on our jet, despite the pilot and personnel on deck.

In a matter of minutes, we are up in the air. My laptop bag rests untouched on the table in front of me, right next to a glass of Barolo. I grip the stem of the wineglass as I bring it to my lips. After a heavy sip, I decide it’s probably a good idea for me to open up my laptop and start reading over my first assignmentin the states. I have about eleven hours on this flight, so I may as well be productive.

After accessing the WiFi, I log into the secured database we Giordanos use to access all our assignments. The database is run by the best of the best, and always kept secure so that no outsiders can hack into our system and steal our information—or worse, find out what weactuallydo for money.

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