Lose Control (The Jewel Project #5)

11.2||Consequences

It was light outside, though she couldn't be bothered to figure out what time of day it was, how many hours had passed since she'd left Christine behind and rushed here. A million years ago, when other issues seemed important.

Pull yourself together. Someone has to do this, and you're the only one left.

Always the only one, always alone. She'd left home so young and was so excited to rush headfirst into life, her family had always been nothing but an afterthought. A safety net only there if she fell. She'd always thought there would be time. That once she got settled, they'd be together again.

It was always just one more step away. After she settled in Chicago, after she got used to her activities in the Agency, after she finished college, after she finished law school...

Now it was never. She'd always patted herself on the back that it was okay, that she was doing everything for them anyway. She'd bought them the house after all. But money didn't matter, and she only learned that now, when it was too late.

Surprisingly, she still had tears left to cry. She let them pour down her dirty cheeks as she counted the remains of the bodies. Six of them. Everyone. Her parents, her two brothers and two sisters. Just kids, forced to suffer a terrible fate because...

Why? A cry of rage escaped her lips. "Why?" she shouted into the sky. "Why, why, why?"

She bent over and retched, the acid making its way up her throat. Because she knew the reason. It was her. Always her.

And like a given, as she struggled for air and raised her head, it fell on a pristine white rectangle stuck between two planks of what used to be the door.

Her knees shook, but her vision cleared a little as she made her way towards the door and picked up the business card. She recognized it because she'd seen it before, when Herrison had revealed who he really was.

This card had no name on it, just the soaring eagle symbol and the words Counter Intelligence International in fancy script. The eyes of the eagle were crossed out in a childish representation of death. Under the image, there was a handwritten message. Be careful who you choose to betray.

Angie stared at it, her brain making desperate attempts to process the warning. It was obviously put there by the people who had burned down her house, killed her family. But who were they. The Agency wouldn't fake-kill its own symbol.

The thought plagued her mind as she wondered around for something to use to put her family to rest.

She didn't have an urn, she didn't have a crematorium. All she could maybe do was call the authorities. Out if reflex, she searched her pockets. Her phone wasn't there. She started searching her backpack and was halfway through turning it upside down when something hit her exhausted mind.

The phone was gone. She hadn't been able to find it since Springfield, but it hadn't mattered then for some reason she couldn't remember. She tried to think back, figure out where she'd left it, but that would mean breaking through the barrier the shock had built inside her mind. She wasn't sure she could handle that, not yet, so she gave up on the phone.

Her decision plunged a weight in her stomach even if she couldn't fully understand the cause. It didn't matter, she'd figure it out later. Right now, she had to call the authorities. She'd go to Gabe's and use his phone.

She turned towards the door and her heart jumped into her throat. A lone figure stood right outside her charred house. Phillip.

"Angie," he said with a nod.

His tone was so cold. Why was he there? How did he know? Unless... The business card felt like it was burning a hole in her pocket.

Her eyes narrowed. "You."