Page 78 of The Diávolos: Part Two
“I’m afraid we were never given that information, dear.”
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
My mind goes back to Aria telling me he looked familiar.Was it because he looked like me?
“Are there any pictures of him?”
She shakes her head.
“Where can I find him?”
“Last I heard, he went off the grid. I’m sorry. We don’t often hear from past students.”
My instinct is to pull at my hair or flick at my wrist, but I can’t do either without looking like a crazy person right now.
I damn myself for not wearing an earpiece. Evander asked if I wanted one to keep track of their movements, but I was too worried about being caught. Now, I have no idea where they are or if they’ve even made it inside. I need to get away from this woman so I can go searching for them.
“If you don’t mind, I’m going to stay here for a while longer to go through more photos.”
“No problem. I’ll be out in the dining hall. I’ll check in on you shortly,” the sister says.
As soon as she walks out of the door, I rummage through more albums of the years I spent here and tear out all photos that include me. Then, I pick up some books from the time I assume my mother was a sister here and also cut out those pictures. Maybe if I examine them properly later, they could help me remember.
When I’ve stuffed all the papers under my sweater, I sneak out of the library and down the hallway. Xander said the main offices where they were headed are at the very end of the building, near a set of stairs that lead down to the basement. As adrenaline surges within me, I speed-walk through the corridors, trying to remember what I saw on the map, and finally come face-to-face with a hidden door that should open onto a hidden passage. I peel it open, trying to not make any noise and, when I go through, I hear murmured voices. Fear creeps in. What if it’s not Evander and his men?
A rush of courage gives me the push I need to go forward.
The flickering lights cast dancing shadows on the rough stone walls as I tread cautiously through the concealed passage, my fingertips grazing the cold surface.
The pounding of my heart fierce as I turn a corner. The hallway widens, revealing a vast room.
My eyes adjust to the subdued light, and I catch sight of a figure standing in the center. My breath catches in my throat as I recognize the silhouette—Evander is facing away from me, his attention captivated by something on the wall.
“Evan?” I call out, my voice only loud enough for him to hear.
“Angel.” Evander sighs as he turns, relief etched in his voice. “I was starting to think you’d gotten caught.”
The tension that had been gripping my chest begins to loosen its hold. “We’re safe for now, but they will come looking for me soon.”
“We got the files, baby,” Evan says. “We fucking got them!” he whisper-shouts, lifting me into the air and making me laugh. “We can finally take those fuckers down and get justice for you, your mother, and all the girls who’ve been hurt.”
A deep exhale escapes my lungs and my eyes brim with tears. It’s as if a burden has been lifted off my chest, making it easier to breathe.
As I look around, I notice the details I’d been too preoccupied to see before—Evan’s men scouring the place for more evidence, and framed photographs on the wall showing the faces of all the men who’ve been involved in the Sisterhood. My gaze inevitably lands on the photo of my father.
There he stands, looking a lot younger, among a cohort of men who led an establishment tainted with darkness and disgrace.
A knot tightens in the pit of my stomach as I take in the image. Mybaba’s face, once familiar and comforting, now carries the burden of a legacy I’ll never accept. The weight of disappointment settles heavily within me, mingling with a profound sense of betrayal.A feeling I know all too well.
My father's role in this dark chapter is finally coming to an end.
Everyone on that wall will soon stand in the aftermath of my rage.
22
EVANDER
“If you love somebody, let them go, for if they return, they were always yours. And if they don't, they never were.” —Khalil Gibran
