11. ???

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She was an enigma, a puzzle that I couldn't resist unraveling. From afar, I couldn't help but be captivated by her alluring features. Her jawline was sharp, her skin bronzed, and her long blonde hair cascaded down her back. Even with the stress evident on her face, she exuded an air of mystery that did nothing if not draw me in.
When she had reached out to me with a new task, I knew something was amiss. She rarely contacted me unless she needed something or someone taken care of. So, I watched her carefully from a safe distance, hidden from view. She sat at a table, sipping her coffee and staring intently at a flyer on the wall.

BROOKSVILLE'S MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE: SYLVIE QUINN.

The police had plastered her image all over town, in search of Sylvie.
Ava checked the time on her phone and typed out a message, my phone buzzing in my hand only after a second.

AVA: Where are you? I have to be at school soon.

I responded.

???: I'm here.

The two blue ticks on my phone indicated she had read my message. She spun around in her chair, scanning the area. I took the time to emerge from my hiding spot, a glimmer of recognition lit up in her eyes. She waited for me as I approached the table, my hands in my leather pockets and the folder she had requested in my grasp. I took a seat next to her, knowing what I had to do.
Three simple rules governed our interactions: no speaking, no questions, and no contact at school. The barista notices me and pauses "You want to order?".
I decline with a subtle shake of my head, silently conveying that I am content just observing. Ava takes a sip of her coffee and drops the cup back down, her gaze fixed on the front of the café.

"We need to change our meeting spot," she says, her tone authoritative yet secretive. She pulls out an earpiece from her pocket and puts it on, pretending to have a conversation with a stranger on the phone.
"We can't risk anyone overhearing us or seeing us together." She states for the both of us. I nod in agreement. BrookSville Café used to be a quiet place for the old folks to smoke and have breakfast, but lately, students from BrookSville High had been showing up more frequently.

"Did you bring what I asked for?" Ava's voice is sharp and demanding, a tone I've grown accustomed to over the years. I used to imagine what she would look like as an adult, taking over her father's position. Her eyes remain fixed on the flier for Sylvie, her finger tapping impatiently on the glass counter.
I slide the folder towards her, making sure not to draw attention. She takes it in her hands and opens it carefully, a proud smile spreading across her face. I had learned to read her like a book over the years. When she was pleased and confident, a smirk would grace her lips, knowing she had achieved what she wanted. When her expression was neutral, she was still striving for success, but knew she was close. And when she was angry, that's when things got dangerous.

"You did well," she praises, examining the contents of the folder. From her designer bag, she pulls out an envelope filled with cash. She slid only half of the payment towards me, indicating that there was something else she wanted, something she knew I could deliver if she paid me in full. "Can you make it digital?" she demands, taking a sip of her drink. I give her the answer she's looking for and she beams, fishing a second envelope. Payment complete.

"Did you manage to scare her?" she asks, uncrossing her legs only to cross them again with grace. The barista takes away her cup of coffee and Ava slips her a ten dollar bill. She pulls out her lipstick and a small mirror, carefully touching up her already perfect lips. I signal my approval and she sighs. "Did she get the message?" she asks once more.
I simply shrug. When I took the photo of one of Ava's targets, I never expected her to be awake. The original plan was to capture a photo of her while she slept, send a threatening message, and scare her away. But when I sent Ava the photo that night, she came up with an even better plan.

"Now all you have to do is send it to every number at Brooksville High," she declares, hopping off her chair. Her school uniform fits her curves perfectly as she grabs her bag and keys. She turns away from me, heading towards the exit, but stopping herself in time. "I want you to do what you do best: Ruin her." Wilhelmshaven that, she walked away, her hair bouncing as she headed towards the exit.

With a flair, I pull out my phone and eagerly await the moment of truth. My eyes scan over the words I'm about to unleash onto the world, a mix of excitement and nervousness bubbling up inside me. Finally, I summoned the courage to hit the SEND button and release the public information.

Leaving the Café, I slip on my black hoodie and strut towards BrookSville High. The buzz around me is palpable as I catch glimpses of shocked faces glued to their screens. Whispers trail in my wake, but I can't help but grin, knowing that my master plan has been flawlessly executed. I look up and find Ava standing with her friends at the entrance, hands crossed and eyes on the screen smiling.

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