Page 235 of Eternal
She tapped the folder in front of her. “So, I started digging. Old ops, recon footage and survivor notes. Every blurry face I didn’t trust. Some of those same faces showed up again.And again.In survivor testimonies and in missing persons reports.” She met my gaze. “Kids we thought were safe, gone again within weeks.” Then her voice dropped. “And every time, before theydisappeared… They met someone. A pastor, a guest, a teacher, a donor. At a church, a restaurant, a school, even at a fundraiser.”
“They were just living.” Her voice cracked. “Then they were gone.”
She reached into her bag, pulled out a folder filled with photos, and spread them across the table. “Some bodies were found years later. Dumped, burned, even buried. Unrecognizable until DNA confirmed who they were.” She didn’t flinch as she looked at them. “They found signs of torture, starvation, and abuse. The kind that leaves either nothing… or everything.”
The silence after that wasn’t quiet, it was heavy, suffocating. “And that’s just the ones we know about.” Her eyes locked on mine. “We know it’s national. But how many more? How many countries? How many branches?”
“You brought us proof. Enough to burn the first layer of this thing down.”
I stared at the photo, at the church.
This was ritualized violence, sold like communion.
Elijah reached over, pulled Zanae closer and left his hand around her neck, like he was still checking her pulse. She smiled at the gesture, then turned back to me.
“Thank you for coming,” she said softly. “I have so many things to show you. Maybe we can work on this together.”
“How long are you staying in Vesper?” Nikolai asked.
“Probably a week or two,” I replied. “I’ve got that pastor to chase down back home.”
She laughed at that. Even Nikolai chuckled. “Perfect,” she said. “We’ll make you a copy of everything. You’ll leave here with answers.”
Zanae slid her number toward me across the table, her fingers brushing the edge of it like she wanted to make sure I actually took it. “Call me if you need anything, okay?” she said.“And let’s see each other tomorrow. There’s a gala, nothing too formal, but... we’d really like you there.”
I gave a small nod and tucked the paper into my pocket. “Alright, yeah. Thanks.”
Elijah stood, reached his hand out again and I took it, firm and brief. “Welcome to Vesper.”
Nikolai was already moving toward the door, holding it open for me with a glance I couldn’t quite read. I followed him out into the bright midday sun, the coffee shop patio got quiet behind us.
I pulled my helmet off the back of the bike, but my head still ached.
As I adjusted the strap, Nikolai shifted beside me, hands in his coat pockets.
“If you’re staying a few days,” he said, “and you feel like training,” I looked up at him. “We’ve got a place. Quiet, off the grid. A friend and I are sparring there tomorrow morning. A few others might join.” He paused. “No pressure.”
I didn’t answer right away, the sun hit my eyes and I nodded. “I’d like that.”
That near-smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Alright then, I’ll send you the address.”
“Thank you, Nikolai.Really.” I smiled even if he couldn't see it.
He smiled back and replied, “You’re welcome, Azra.”
And I mounted the bike, clipped my helmet on, and pulled away from there.
The ride through Vesper was almost too bright, warm wind cutting through the streets, kids playing near fountains.
Back at the penthouse, I let the elevator carry me to my floor. As soon as the door closed behind me, I slid my boots off, let my jacket fall to the floor, and walked to the couch.
The headache was still there but not screaming as loudly anymore.
I glanced at the slip of paper with Zanae’s number, now sitting on the marble counter next to my keys.
Didn’t call. Didn’t text.
But I left it there.
