Why had she hesitated. Her entire life had been planned for that moment. Yet, when it came down to it. She hesitated. She had harbored so much hatred for her father. He, who had coward more than once. He who had sold her. He, who failed to protect her. He who had shown clemency to others…. But there she was, guilty of the same crime. She had had both Fiori and Evian at point blank and had killed none. She could have crushed them with a pull of the finger.

Yet, she did not.

She rubbed her forehead in a plea to erase this bad dream.

She had waited patiently, her entire life, for the perfect moment to kill her father. And there, right before her eyes, Fiori had stolen the thunder from her. He had not hesitated. Always on the look out, he had dived unto his prey and didn’t let go until he was done.

All she could do was watch, horrified.

Horrified to have missed her opportunity.

Horrified that she would never know the satisfaction of being the last thing her father sees before dying.

It wasn’t supposed to be like that. Damn it! It wasn’t supposed to be like that!

She took a death breath. She had to ground herself. She had to let go.

“Patience,” she said to herself, out of habit.

But patience for what? Where do I go from here?

She took out her radio and called for a pickup. Evian was on the ground at her feet. Blood trickling out of both legs. Her father and his entire unit were dead. This was a fiasco. A grand fiasco that would be hard to explain to Mr. Weatherspoon. At the very least she’d give him Evian. That had to count for something. She wanted him dead, but the directive had been clear. They wanted the Li siblings alive. The others could be disposed off freely.

She took her little book out of the inner pocket of her cloak. Her lips were pressed tightly together. Only one name was crossed. She vigorously rubbed her forehead again. This was not good. This was not good at all. Out of anger, she kicked Evian who was still on the ground. He grunted as the force flipped him over. He was small for his age. Sick looking too.

She looked up at the sky, the different hues of darkness were announcing the up coming arrival of the first sun rays. It wouldn’t be long until the ground suddenly warm up, almost overnight. And nature would start to grow again. Spring. The rebirth of life… but not for her.

In the distance, she heard a helicopter coming.

She grabbed Evian by the collar and dragged him closer to the tree line. The helicopter should have enough room to land in the clearing. She looked around at all the bodies scattered through the place. This was yet again another familiar scene. She shrugged. How many more people would she have to kill? How many more people would have to die? It was ironic in a way… trying to save humanity by killing so many.

She laughed.

What a mess this is!

She looked at her hands, they were covered in blood.

Whose blood was it? She wondered.

At her feet, Evian let go of a groan. It annoyed Eva.

Why does he have to be so noisy? Couldn’t he just be dead! Why does he have to cling unto life like a stupide animal.

She rolled her head and cracked her neck. It felt good. She was so tense.

Evian groaned again. This time to shut him up, she recklessly stomped on the side of his head. That should do it, she thought.

The helicopter was now directly over their head.

Evian groaned again but the helicopter blades covered the sound of his voice.

As soon as the helicopter landed, Eva climbed in and took a seat. She was handed a clean towel to wash her face and hands. She sat quickly as Evian was thrown unto the floor next to the body of her deceased father. The others had found their forever resting place. They would not be recovered. There was no one to return the bodies to anyway. At the very least, it saved the government money. Disposal incurred needless expenses. It was also easier to hide the number of casualties to the general public if they were simply left behind. You couldn’t lose someone who had never existed in the first place. Eva knew this firsthand. She was, after all, no one. On paper she did not exist. She died, years ago, with her mother in an unfortunate car crash.

At that thought, a wave of memories washed over her. How long ago was it? She was 4 years old back then. 4 years old when she had died. It wasn’t until 2 years later that she suddenly developed a Heighten Characteristic. She had been born a Melior… yet… something had happened. She couldn’t quite remember what, but she knew, something had happened to her.

From that point on, her life changed very quickly as she was enrolled in project EDEN and sent to Nova Urbi to befriend and monitor a little boy who had just arrived there. She was 8 years old. That was 13 years ago…

13 years ago, she thought, how time flies.

She took a deep breath and sunk deeper into her seat. She pressed her forehead against the window. It was cold. Moisture left a wet track across her brow.

13 years ago, she had put on the red tank top, the red pants, they inked her in the face with no remorse. She had put on the shoes, the zip up sweater. She had pulled the hood over her face to hide her painful expression. Yet, she didn’t cry.

“A Marshall never cried”, her father had said. “A Marshall marches on an seizes the opportunity.”

13 years ago, the dead Eva Josephine Marshall walked into Nova Urbi and started her mission.

Se saw him right away: the boy. He was much younger than her. He seemed haggard, feral too. There was something malicious in his eyes.

She remembered thinking; he was the starving feline waiting to pounce on his prey. He knew the pain of hunger.

He will be easy to manipulate, she thought.

She walked right up to him. She lifted her hood and put on a smile. She leaned over the young boy and dangled a piece of bread right in front of his eyes. She had expected him to pounce on it.

He did not.

“Would you like it?” in a most gentle voice, she said.

The young boy looked up, there was fire in his eyes. He quickly raised his hands and violently slapped the food away.

That surprised Eva, she jumped back. She followed the piece of bread out of the corner of her eyes. People were looking at them. Three started fighting each other for that dirt covered morsel of food.

Eva got up.

“Patience is a virtue,” she mumbled as she walked away.

The next day, she tried again. Every morning a guard would slip a piece of bread to her. Eva knew that sooner or later; the child would take that piece of bread. Bread would for sure triumph over the grey sludge they were being serve. Undoubtedly, bread had to win.

But day after day, the young boy refused the bread.

Day after day, Eva grew more impatient, more unsettled. She had been given a task. This was not working. It had already been a month, she was already a failure.

Morning came, another piece of bread was handed to her. It looked so delicious. She loved bread. She sighed at the idea that once more this piece would go to waste. As to remind her, her stomach grumbled. The grey slope was unbearable. It was disgusting, yet the people around her devoured it every morning.

She missed having high tea. She missed the scones and the little jam sandwiches. She missed sitting in the garden or having dinner under the golden chandelier. She had hated that chandelier, now, oddly, she missed it. She missed the taste of food, the color, the texture, the scent.

She joined the breakfast line, clutching to the piece of bread in her pocket, trying to figure out a plan. A new plan that is. A plan that would actually work. A plan Mr. Weatherspoon could be proud of. It was nearly her turn to be served. She could smell the foul sludge. Her stomach turned. Then out of the corner of her eyes something caught her attention. The little boy had already cleaned his bowl of food. He was heading for the washroom. She decided to follow him.

She left the line, and quickly disappear behind the door to the dormitory. The room was empty. She continued and entered the washroom. Here too the smell was foul. There was no proper ventilation. The walls had molds. The sewage was often backed up, the place cleaned once a year. Water pulled out of the well was yellow and cold.

The little boy wasn’t hard to find, he was shivering in the corner of a stall. He didn’t seem to care that he was sitting in a puddle of stagnant wash water. The fire she had seen in his eyes was gone. His overgrown hair stuck to his cheeks. He was quietly sobbing.

She took the piece of bread out of her pocket. She was about to dangle it in front of the boy when her own stomach grumbled again.

“Sounds like you need the bread more than me,” the little boy said between two sobs.

Eva looked at the bread in her hand and without thinking stuffed it into her mouth. It was a little stale yet tasted like heaven to her. She chewed it carefully, trying to savor every bit, but hunger won over, and in one gulp she swallowed it whole.

It was then she realized what she had done. She covered her mouth with both hands and in a panic, she started crying. It had taken one month, but the orphanage had done it, it had broken her. She was a pathetic failure of a daughter. They would find out and perhaps they would leave her there to die. She was shaking in horror at the idea of spending the rest of her life in this forsaken place. She dropped to the ground, landing next to the boy. Shoulder to shoulder they cried.

They stayed like that for a while maybe, she did not know for in there, time stood still. The young boy had fallen asleep, his head nested on her shoulder. She listened to his quiet breathing; it was soothing.

What kind of horror had his life been so far, she wondered?

Has he ever enjoyed the sweet taste of strawberry jam on a soft piece of bread?

Does he know anything of life outside this forsaken hell?

She closed her eyes, trying to escape this prison. She concentrated on her memories, her happy memories. They were few, but they were there. She looked for that time the sunrays kissed her forehead. She searched for her mom’s embrace, her father’s smile. She longed for the soft glow of the sparkling moonlight. She longed to have her life back.

Then she had an idea. She brushed the hair off the young boy’s face and rested her fingers on his cheek.

I can have it all, she thought.

“I can be your friend, I can fulfill my mission, we can escape this place! Together!” she murmured to his ear.

She meant it! And she knew just how to do it!