Chapter 2

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New York City. August 17th, 2015. 0930 Hours.

Harold

"So what's the deal Finch?" John complained, rubbing his eyes as he groaned out of his nap, "It's been two hours. Please tell me you've got something."

"I do, but please be patient, Mr. Reese. Without the Machine, I have to be extremely careful, and I doubt you'd want an unnecessary run in with Samaritan."

"Wouldn't want that." He said deliriously as he stood, "So what do you have?"

I rolled my eyes and limped over to our unofficial crime board. In the center of the board was the ID picture I'd found of our new number. She was grinning from ear to ear, her jade colored eyes wide and bright with excitement. Her skin was a light tan, and her light brown hair cascaded elegantly down her right shoulder. "Mr. Reese, meet our new number."

John nodded slowly, observing the picture carefully before commenting, "Who is she?"

"Anna Markham." I answered, "15. Born in London. When she was 11, her dad paid for an apartment in New York."

"Why was she in the city?"

"She's a music prodigy. Got a scholarship to Juilliard. She's from a bad neighborhood on the outskirts of London, and her family's not well off, so it was her escape route of sorts. Her father split the price of her rent with the father of her roommate."

"And who's the roomie?"

I taped another picture to the right of Anna's. The new girl was about the same age, with blood red hair and baby blue eyes. "Ella Sonata. She's in LA with a travelling Broadway show."

"Isn't that the girl that saved an actor from getting shot on stage a couple years ago?" I nodded, and John continued, "Why isn't Markham in LA with her?"

"Never graduated." I said, "After the whole assassin thing with Ella, Anna's father passed away. She returned to London for his funeral and didn't come back afterward."

"Until now."

I nodded, "According to the records I found, she returned to the city on the 6th."

John frowned, "Do we know what for?"

I shook my head, "She hasn't reapplied at Juilliard. She hasn't really done anything at all. After her processing through customs at the airport, it seems she's been digitally inactive."

John nodded slowly, then turned to me, "So what's your take on it?"

I shrugged, "I don't really know."

John frowned and spun around, suddenly alarmed, "Finch, where's Root?"

For once, I actually cracked a smile, "She's already on the case."

Root

I smirked, "Have a nice nap, John?"

"Why are you outside?" John hissed through the comm in my ear, "You could be seen."

"Relax, Mother." I whined, "It's been 3 months. Samaritan's programming still has a bit of a glitch when we come in, and things with the head honchos have at least calmed down a little. At the moment, a cheap disguise will go a long way."

"What do you mean by cheap disguise?"

"I mean I'm wearing a blonde wig and sunglasses, Sherlock."

"No need to get all touchy."

"I'm not getting touchy-"

"Focus, Ms. Groves." Harold barked, "What's happening?"

I rolled my eyes, "Little Miss Sunshine's walkin' down the street, Harry. Must I explain everything to you?"

"Important details, Root." John stated rather obviously, "Important details are quite helpful."

"You don't say." I scoffed as I rounded a corner and found Markham in the crowd again, "She bought a hot chocolate from Starbucks a little while ago. Paid cash. From what I can tell, she's doing everything with cash right now."

"Sounds like she's deliberately staying off grid." Harold determined, "Maybe she's hiding from something."

"Or someone," said John. "Have you cloned her phone?"

"Yeah, but she hasn't received any texts or messages as long as I've been here. The encryption on it's top of the line stuff, by the way. I think I've seen government operatives with crap easier to hack into. She knows what she's doing."

"She's 15..."

"John, Samaritan's avatar is half this girl's age. Besides, I hacked a drug lord at 15. It's not that big of a leap, all things considered."

"Granted, but she's a music prodigy. Why the hell does she have top level encryption on her phone?"

My phone buzzed and I raised it quickly, "She just got a text."

"What's it say?"

"Clear so far. Get back 2u if heats up. Stay safe. - E." The phone vibrated again and suddenly the text was gone. I whistled, "Not bad."

"What?"

"She's using self-deleting messages."

"How'd she figure out how to do that?"

"You could probably find it on the internet if you look past the first page of Google." Harold commented.

I did my best to ignore John and Harold's arguing as I followed Markham around another corner. She began to pick up speed, weaving her way in and out of the crowd as I struggled to keep up without giving myself away. She ducked down an alley ahead, and I had to push through the "Jenkins Family End of Summer Vacation" to follow her path.

When I turned into the alley, I shuddered to an awkward stop. The street was empty, dumpsters on each side and scaffolding just high enough to convince me not to climb it. I lifted my phone again and frowned, "What the-"

"What?" John seemed to yell in exasperation, cutting off whatever Finch was saying about SEOs.

"GPS says she should be here, but I don't see her."

"Are you sure?"

"Despite your obvious belief against it, I do, in fact, have eyes, John."

I stepped over to the dumpster on the left and lifted the lid slowly. An empty hot chocolate lay on top of the filled garbage bag, along with a brightly lit phone screen.

"She dumped her phone, Harold."

"What?"

"She's gone." I said, "And she left a message."

"What?" John echoed, "What's it say?"

I lifted the phone out of the dumpster and read the short text on the open notes app, "Stay away."

Author's Note

HELLO EVERYONE! Thank you for bearing with me for that update. IB classes are stressful.

I got an Apple Watch and I love it and it makes me happy. I can check my Wattpad reads in school. It's pretty great.

Anyway, check out my profile for info on how updates will be running from now on (hint hint: no schedule). Votes and comments are greatly appreciated as per usual. Thanks for reading!

XOXO ~ Maddie

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