Chapter 23

The sound of playing children surrounded me. I was sitting on a bench in the middle of the play yard, a small child of about six with a dirty but happy face sitting on my lap.

Mrs. Addison, the headmistress, was sitting next to me keeping an eye on things.

Some of the kids were already wearing the new sweatshirts I'd brought despite the warm sun.

"Thank you again," Mrs. Addison said, her scent reminding me vaguely of bleach. It wasn't unpleasant, just unusual, and unusual scents were something I was happy to support.

"Are you having issues getting clothes for the children?" I asked.

Mrs. Addison sighed and nodded. "Sadly, yes."

"I have to admit," I said, "I'm a little surprised since the orphanage where I grew up had quite the donations department. I didn't realize mine was special. I thought that's how all orphanages were."

"Ideally they should be," Mrs. Addison said. "But there's been some weird holdup with the city and even state-wide funding. We aren't able to get the supplies we need."

"That's horrible."

Mrs. Addison nodded vigorously. "You'd think if they needed to cut costs it wouldn't be from helpless children."

The little kid on my lap noticed a suddenly vacant swing and darted off my lap toward it. I noticed the way Mrs. Addison's eyes followed the child. They were tender, sad.

I had misjudged her. Here was a woman trying her best under difficult circumstances.

"I'm sure you noticed our lack of process when you first came."

I nodded. "Frankly, it was a little alarming to me how quickly I, as a stranger, was able to gain access to the kids."

Mrs. Addison turned to face me. "Then you'll agree, there's something very wrong. That system was taken away, was actually removed from our facility last year. The fingerprint screening, the computers with the databases, the metal detectors. All gone."

Mrs. Addison looked into my confused face. "It's as if someone was deliberately putting our kids in danger."

I was silent for a moment.

"But who would want that?" I voiced my confusion.

"I honestly don't know."

We sat in silence for a moment, watching the children playing.

"Do you want to help me with snack time?" she asked, getting up. "I could use a hand."

I followed her into the kitchen where a lone cook was laying out crackers and a large vat of peanut butter.

I helped her slather the peanut butter onto crackers to make small sandwiches, and organized them with pieces of string cheese around an enormous tray.

"This is the fun bit," Mrs. Addison said, giving me a mischievous smile and picking up her tray. Ready, Mrs. Collingsworth?" she asked the cook.

The cook took out a stop watch and stood poised. "Ready!"

"Let's do it." Mrs. Addison strode out the door. I followed uncertainly, balancing the enormous tray.

There was a cheer from the yard. Seventy-five small creatures suddenly charged us. I instinctively flinched, as. it was my body's instinct to turn and run.

"Hold steady, Ms. Laurentia!" Mrs. Addison called. "On my right, please."

I did as I was told, giggling through my nerves.

"Line up, everyone!" bellowed Mrs. Addison. "You know the drill!" The kids scrambled and dashed to line up in front of her. "No pushing, Allen! I see you, Charlene. Don't cut in line."

The headmistress's voice boomed around the courtyard and soon the entire school was quivering in a neat row in front of her.

The first little girl looked up at us with eager eyes.

"Go!" Mrs. Addison boomed.

Mrs. Collingsworth hit time on her watch.

The little girl reached up, took a piece of apple and cheese, then stepped to me and took a peanut butter cracker sandwich.

"Thank you!" she said, already stuffing her mouth.

"Thank you," said the next girl, scampering off with her snacks.

They filed through like a blur of happy faces, hungry, their hands mostly dirty hands from playing. As the line grew shorter, Mrs. Addison looked around for the cook.

"And... Time!" she said as the last cracker disappeared. The cook looked at her watch.

"One minute and thirty-four seconds."

Mrs. Addison looked disappointed. "We can't seem to break a minute and thirty," she said, more to herself than to me.

She shook her head and smiled at me. "We need to have our little fun," she said.

It was time for me to go, and as I went to leave a few children noticed and threw their arms around my legs in small hugs. I did my best to hug them all back and shuffled toward the exit.

As we went through the empty, quiet hall toward the front door, Mrs. Addison smiled. "Thank you for bringing us things. I've put the word out on social media and done what I can, but I get reprimanded when I do, so I'm not sure what more I can do at this point."

I looked at her, thinking hard. Should I reveal my job? I definitely wouldn’t insult her and tell her I suspected her at first of child abuse, but it sounded like the city itself was guilty of that. I wanted her to trust me.

"What is it, Ms. Laurentia?"

"Mrs. Addison, I don't know if you think this would help, but I'm a reporter for Social Scene."

"The gossip paper?"

I sighed. "Yes. I know it doesn't have a good reputation, but how would you feel if I wrote a story about this. I could keep your name out of it. I can cite an anonymous source."

She looked at me with fear in her eyes and I put out a hand, worried she would shut me out. But then I saw something steely appear there.

"My only fear is that I'm the only thing standing between these kids and someone the city appoints who doesn't care. I can't get fired, Ms. Laurentia. Not right now."

I nodded. "I understand."

"But," she cut me off as I was turning to go. "If you can think of a way we can report about it without me seeming to be involved, I'd be willing."

"Let me think about how to do it," I said. "May I come back?"

"The children and I welcome you whenever you'd like," she said kindly.

She sniffed in my direction. "What an unusual scent you have."

"You can smell something?"

"Oh, yes. And the children were right. They were telling me all about it. It's wonderfully soothing."

I walked back toward the office, both lighter and heavier than I'd come. Mrs. Addison wanted my help. I just needed to do it in a way that didn't put the children's safety at risk.

How am I going to do it?

I tapped my finger against my chin as I walked, hardly noticing the people I wove in and out of on my way down the street. I paused and absently looked into a window that displayed a tower of cupcakes.

In the reflection, on the corner of the street I just crossed I thought I saw a figure with a dark hat pulled down low over their face. It was almost meeting his collar.

It was chilly, so it wasn't odd, but whoever it was, they were simply standing while the rest of the people were crossing with the traffic.

I stood watching and the figure appeared to be studying their phone. No big deal, I told myself. Someone trying to find their way around the city.

I kept walking, this time more aware.

I took a weaving route around different blocks instead of the more direct straight line. When I stopped to look in the window of a stationary store, my stomach lurched.

There he was again, a half block away, but ambling slowly up the block, appearing to look at his cell phone as he went, something about his movement giving away his gender.

No navigation system would have taken him on the route I'd just been walking.

I didn't mean to, but my pace quickened as I neared the skyscraper of Rafe Media.

My heart was thudding, my nerves were frayed. I practically ran through the rotating front doors.

"Hi Elena," Brian the security guard said. And then he looked twice. "You okay?"

"Can you check and see if a man, pretty sure it's a man, at least, with a short dark coat and a hat pulled low walks by in a moment?"

He gave me an odd look, but nodded. "Should I take a smoke break outside?"

"If that's okay?"

"I'm due," he said, winking at me and stepping outside.

"What's going on?" a familiar, imperious voice came from behind me. Charles was walking toward me. "I've been waiting for you, Ele... what's wrong?"

He looked at my sweaty, nervous face and then outside. He went to move out the doors and I put a hand on his arm.

It was strong and warm. I instantly felt better.

"Brian's checking for me. I may be crazy, but I think someone is following me."

He frowned down at me. "I doubt you're wrong. Our species has instincts about that kind of thing. It comes from being hunters ourselves."

Brian came back in, smelling like cigarettes over his usual bittersweet chocolate.

"Yep. He was there. Was across the street looking at the building for a moment."

Charles went to look and Brian stopped him. "He's gone. As soon as I stood next to the door and light my cigarette he high-tailed it."

“Do you have any idea why someone is following you? Anything weird happen recently?”

I thought about it for a while and shook my head, “Not that I can recall.”

Charles looked at me and frowned, then turned to Brian.

“Let's up the security level. All strangers have to show credentials, and grab that guy if he comes anywhere near here again."

“Got it,” Brian nodded.

Charles turned back to me, "Looks like I better expediate that self-defense lesson."