Page 1 of Unnatural
Prologue
Present Day
The answers to every burning question Autumn had ever had about her history might be sitting in one of the four file cabinets across the room.
She leaned forward in her chair, craning her neck until she could see her social worker, Chantelle. The older woman was standing on the other side of the hall just outside her office. Her back faced the partially open door as she spoke to the coworker who’d interrupted her meeting with Autumn to have a stack of—apparently urgent—forms signed.
Autumn had come there begging for information and clarification from one of the only people who could give it to her, but it’d quickly become clear that Chantelle was only going to continue to stonewall. The same way everyone had, all her life. If Autumn wanted answers, she was going to have to steal them.
It’s now or it’s never.
With a deep inhale, Autumn pushed herself off the chair, rounded the desk, and slipped quickly past the door, cringing as she waited to hear her name called in a warning tone. But the only sounds were the continued noise of a busy office and the murmurings of Chantelle and the man she was conversing with as she signed his forms.
Autumn blew out a slow breath as she put her hand on the nearest file cabinet and pulled the handle of the top drawer. Her heart pounded as she prepared for a squeak, but it glided open noiselessly.Thank the heavens.Autumn’s gaze flew over the labeled tabs, attempting to quickly ascertain Chantelle’s filing system.
Years. She has them organized by year. These are the most recent.
Chantelle’s laugh rang out, and Autumn jerked, her breath hitching.Just another minute. I’m so close.
She was all in now. She couldn’t fathom leaving this office with nothing.
Nothing about her childhood.
Nothing about her moonlight boy.
No.The thought ofhimbolstered her courage, and she took a step to the right, making a guess about where her own file might be. She’d entered the system twenty-three years before as a newborn baby. It had to be in one of the two farthest cabinets.
Autumn squatted down and pulled the bottom drawer of the third cabinet open, but this time, a squeak emerged from the older hardware. She froze, her heart pounding so hard she felt mildly dizzy. She caught a few words from the man speaking to Chantelle that sounded like “…court-ordered hearing, and…” It was only a snippet but enough to tell her they were still talking business and were otherwiseoccupied. For now. She pulled the drawer open a little more, just enough to see the dates.
Not this one. But very close. Hurry!
Autumn sprang to her feet, pulling open the top drawer on the final cabinet. The blood whooshing in her head slightly muffled the surrounding sounds, but she didn’t think even the smallest squeak emerged.
“Hey, thanks for taking the time…” the man outside was saying.They’re wrapping it up. Oh God.
Again, her gaze flew over the tabs separating the file folders within.Yes! There.The year she was born. Autumn’s shaking hands went to the dated section, riffling through the files, eyes landing on what she’d been looking for.
Mercy Hospital for Children.
“Good luck today,” Chantelle called. Her voice was closer. And Autumn heard her approaching footsteps as she shuffled through the paperwork.
My name. There’s my name.
She pulled her file out, several more coming with it. She didn’t have time to put the others back, instead sticking the short stack under the front of her shirt and then wrapping her large, bulky sweater around herself. She hit the open drawer with her shoulder, and it slid back into place just as Autumn took a giant step away from the cabinets and Chantelle reentered the office.
“Sorry to keep you—” Chantelle stopped, words halting as her brows raised, obviously surprised to see Autumn standing instead of seated like she’d been.
Autumn struggled not to visibly swallow, tried desperately not to appear as though she’d just done something unscrupulous. And illegal.
“Are you leaving?” her social worker asked. Her gazemoved to the purse on the floor next to the chair where Autumn had sat begging Chantelle for information she wouldn’t give. She obviously knew something was off.
Autumn needed to go before the older woman worked it out and demanded that she turn over what she’d stolen. She moved quickly, grabbing her purse and heading toward the door. “Yes. I just remembered I’m late for another appointment. Thank you for your time, Chantelle.”
Chantelle stepped in front of Autumn, taking her by her upper arms and causing Autumn’s heart to jolt.Oh God. Don’t make me fight for these files. I will.
But Chantelle sighed, her face melting into what looked like empathy. “Listen, Autumn, I know it’s hard to accept that you lost fourteen years of your life.”
Autumn stayed still, afraid to move lest the sound of rustling papers come from beneath her clothing, but she was relieved to see that Chantelle wasn’t a total bureaucrat. She still possessed some humanity.
