“Okay,” Reuben replies.
The air that was so much easier to breathe a few moments ago, has become stifling. Suffocating.
I use the time to prepare every inch of my being on our way to the island. Every scenario—every possibility—of the state I might find Evelyn.
The girl I saved only to lead to her death.
I’m in a daze on the drive to the harbour and on the boat to the island, until Aster meets us at the dock under the evening sun. He leads us further inland, over freshly cut grass and past scattered trees, and onto the premises of a well-kept cottage, hiding in plain sight, between two small warehouses.
The premises are buzzing with Aster’s people—more than twenty men with grim expressions.
Amongst them, a dozen people, all wrapped in warm sheets and trembling slightly. Women, men, children.
Disgust and hatred surge through my core, like a hot ball of fire. It tightens my fingers into fists at my sides and grinds my teeth together, until rage is permeating through every inch of my being.
But what catches my eye is one trembling young woman.
A small girl with dark skin and golden eyes.
Philip Warren had already captured his third victim.
If he’d gotten away, we would’ve never found a trace of him ever again.
“It wasn’t just the Harvester,” Aster says grimly. “It was a full traffickingoperation. We found these people chained together in the warehouses like cattle. There were some who…” He trails off, unsure, “didn’t make it through. Who likely resisted. They were killed, but they weren’t buried… they were left there, beside the living.”
The disgust inside me is reeling so much, it pulls my lips into a scowl. The survivors were left amongst their dead, surrounded by the smell of rotting flesh with the shared understanding that no one would come for them.
“The property is in Lester’s name?” Reuben asks grimly and Aster nods. Tobias, Gabriel and Xavier are all quiet, wearing solemn expressions as we follow him deeper into the property.
“We rounded up everyone who was on the premises,” Aster’s expression is cold, “and shot everyone instead of Philip Warren and six others. They all cried the same name. Lester is their benefactor who’s been funding them for the past three years.”
“We’ll be torching the entire thing,” Aster softens his gaze to meet his brother’s eyes, “so feel free to ask them questions.”
“What will we be doing about the Lester family?” There is a bite to Reuben’s voice, and Aster’s expression darkens.
“That is the Don’s decision.”
I long to ask about Evelyn, but the words stick in my throat. They choke me up, even though I’d prepared so painstakingly for the worst case.
“And Evelyn?” Reuben asks the question softly—forme—and I’m flooded with both gratitude and tension. I'm holding my breath as I wait for Aster’s answer and my heart picks up a fast pace between my ribs, even after so many hours of visualizing the worst.
Aster’s feet come to a stop in front of a stretcher, some ways away from the cottage, covered by thick white tarp, and my heart sinks.
“I figured… you’d want to bury her, out of all of them.”
Aster’s soft reply makes my visions real.
It drowns the little hope I had. It chokes me with a sadness so intense, itbecomes instantly hard tobreathe.
But the moment the tarp is removed, all that’s left is rage. I’m almost vibrating with it.
They took Evie’s eyes.
They took everything from inside her. Her heart. Her kidneys.
Her womb.
Her pretty nails, painted blue and green on alternate fingers, were ripped away and are instead caked with dried blood.
