CHAPTER 87: SAME WHITE HAIR

Eleanor’s POV

I shoved the last forkful of salad into my mouth, left a few bills on the table as a tip, and hurried out of the canteen. Slipping the disposable nose mask over my face, I blended into the stream of people in the hallway. Lunch break was starting, and the corridors were getting busy.

My hunch was right. Dr. Evans wouldn’t meet his mysterious contact in the public cafeteria. I spotted him just as he stepped in an elevator, his back to me. I hung back, pretending to check my phone until the doors slid shut. The floor indicator above lit up, descending. Not to the lobby. To the underground parking garage.

My pulse kicked up a notch.

I took the stairs, moving quickly but quietly, my soft-soled shoes making no sound on the concrete. Pushing the heavy door open just a crack, I peered into the dim, cavernous garage.

The air was cool and smelled of oil and exhaust. I saw him then, about fifty yards away, standing beside a sleek, black sedan. He was looking around, checking his watch, clearly waiting for someone.

I ducked behind a thick concrete pillar, my heart thudding against my ribs. I was in over my head, but there was no turning back now. I just had to wait and see who showed up.

I held my breath, counting the seconds. After about ten minutes, I saw another man approach Dr. Evans. My blood ran cold.

He had hair the same striking white-silver as mine.

He was dressed impeccably in a dark overcoat, a high turtle neck sweater covering the lower half of his face, revealing only his eyes—eyes that seemed to gleam with a sharp, calculating intelligence in the garage’s dim light.

Dr. Evans shook his hand, a gesture that seemed both serious and nervous, before they both got into the doctor’s car.

This was it. I had to get closer.

Staying low, I moved from pillar to pillar, my movements silent and fluid. I finally reached the back of Dr. Evans’ sedan, the tinted windows a solid, impenetrable black. I prayed it wasn’t soundproof. Pressing my ear against the cool metal of the car, I focused, letting my enhanced hearing pick up the muffled voices from within.

"...the same hair color, can you believe it?" Dr. Evans was saying, his voice anxious. "I think it must be dyed. You know how young people are with fashion these days."

A deeper, calmer voice replied—the silver-haired man. "The color is irrelevant. No one should know Silas ever existed. The question is, what if she persists? If she takes this to the internet, to the authorities... it will reach the wrong ears."

My heart froze. The wrong ears. Who were they so afraid of?

"That’s why I called you," Dr. Evans replied, his voice tight with stress. "I have a feeling this woman won’t just give up. We need a solution."

The mysterious man’s response was cold and immediate, devoid of any emotion. "Then we kill her."

The words slammed into me, a wave of pure, icy terror. Kill me? Who was Dr. Silas that my search for the truth warranted a death sentence?

"No, that’s not necessary!" Evans sputtered, panic rising in his voice. I heard the frantic tapping of a phone screen. "Look, I just pulled up her profile. She’s a racer. For Vexxon Tech. You do not want the Vexxon brothers involved in this. If we kill her and they find out why... it will still bring everything into the spotlight. They have resources we can’t even imagine."

I held my breath, my entire body tense, waiting for the man’s response.

A long, considering silence. Then, a low, almost amused sound. "You’re right. For once, you’re actually using your brain. Fine. We do not touch the Vexxon’s property."

A shaky wave of relief washed over me. I was safe, for now, protected by the very name I was trying to escape.

The man’s tone shifted, becoming businesslike. "How has your work been? Any suspicions?"

"None," Evans replied, sounding more confident now. "I always cover my tracks. No one in this hospital has any idea about my... side arrangements."

"That’s good," the silver-haired man said. "We need a larger batch than usual this time. I trust that won’t be an issue."

"I can manage," Evans replied, a hint of greed creeping into his voice. "But for a larger quantity, the compensation will need to be significantly higher."

"Money is not a problem."

I knew I should leave. I’d gotten what I came for—confirmation they were dangerous and that my Vexxon connection was protecting me. If I stayed, I risked getting caught. My plan was to wait and follow the mysterious man when he left.

But then Dr. Evans asked a question that froze me in my tracks, my body halfway into a crouch.

"How is the progress on your end? You know, after enchanting the Serpent’s Kiss... have your people found the person you’re looking for?"

The man’s reply was a low, confident murmur. "Not yet. But she will show herself. I’m sure of it. So long as she is compelled by the tracks, she cannot resist for long."

My blood turned to ice.

My real family, my lineage... it was tied to the Shadow Cult. And this man, with his cold voice and murderous intent, was a part of it. Did I even want to find my family anymore? The answer was a resounding, terrified no.

I had to get out of here. Now.

I began to crawl backward, my movements slow and deliberate, keeping the car between me and their line of sight. I was almost to the safety of the next row of pillars when my phone, tucked in my back pocket, erupted in a shrill, obnoxiously cheerful ringtone.

Shit.

My heart shot into my throat. I fumbled for it, my fingers slick with sweat, and mashed the power button until the screen went black.

But it was too late.

I heard the distinct sound of car doors opening.

"Didn’t you say the area was clear?" the mysterious man’s voice was a low, dangerous growl.

"I—I checked! I swear, no one was here!" Evans stammered, his voice pitching high with panic.

I scrambled on my hands and knees, diving under the chassis of a nearby SUV. The cold, oily concrete pressed against my back. I held my breath, my hand clamped over my mouth to stifle any sound.

Their footsteps echoed in the garage, moving closer.

"Whoever you are," the silver-haired man called out, his voice echoing off the concrete pillars, "it would be in your best interest to show yourself now. If I have to find you... you will not be spared."

Tears of pure, undiluted fear pricked at my eyes. I squeezed them shut, praying to any god that would listen. I wished I could just disappear.

Then, a distant, familiar voice cut through the tense silence.

"Mira, try calling her again! She has to find her phone!"

It was Roxy. My heart leaped with a fragile hope.

Dr. Evans, sounding flustered, spoke up. "I’ve never seen that woman before."

I heard the quick, confident rhythm of Roxy’s jogging feet approaching. "Hey! You two! Did you guys hear a phone ringing just now? My idiot friend lost her phone down here. It’s got a bright pink case, you can’t miss it."

The mysterious man didn’t respond. I heard his footsteps retreating, followed by the soft thud of a car door closing.

Mr. Evans, now alone, addressed Roxy. "When did your friend come down here? I didn’t see anyone."

Mira’s voice joined in, smooth and laced with just the right amount of exasperation. "About ten minutes ago. She was visiting her grandfather on the third floor and came down to move her car. She must have dropped it then. She’s so scatterbrained, it’s a miracle she remembers to breathe."

She can lie without blinking.

"I think I heard it over that way," he said dismissively, pointing vaguely toward the far end of the garage. "Now, if you’ll excuse me." He quickly got into his car. I heard the engine roar to life, and a moment later, the black sedan sped away, its tires squealing slightly on the concrete.

"Thanks!" Roxy called out. I could hear her footsteps pacing around, pretending to search.

Once the sound of the car had completely faded, Mira’s voice dropped to a normal tone. "They’re gone. Eleanor, you can come out now."

Roxy added, "Yeah, show yourself."

I crawled out from under the car, my knees protesting and my heart still hammering. Dust and grease smeared my clothes. "How did you know I was in trouble?" I asked, my voice shaky.

Mira gave a knowing, slightly exasperated look. "We knew you wouldn’t wait for us. But Roxy here," she said, gesturing with a hand, "insisted on calling to ’scare you’." She made air quotes around the words.

Roxy grinned, a flash of white in the dim garage. "So? Were you scared enough?"

"Scared?" I choked out, the terror of the last few minutes crashing down on me all over again. "Roxy, they were talking about killing me."

Mira’s playful expression vanished, replaced by genuine alarm. "Killing you? Why?"

I leaned against the SUV, my legs still weak, and quickly summarized everything I’d overheard.

Mira’s face was pale. "Now that I think about it," she said slowly, "that man... he had the same hair as you. Natural silver-white. What if he’s a relative?"

"I hope not," I whispered, the thought making me feel sick. "I really, really hope not."

Roxy clapped a hand on my shoulder. "Well, if your family is actually evil and shit, you’re not going to be able to run from that fact forever. Better to know what you’re dealing with."

I didn’t know how to reply to that. All i know is that i am back to square one.