Piece By Piece (Complete)

4. Haunted

Sean

Apparently I was Miss Hannigan's Daddy Warbucks, considering the way she was looking at me right now. "Sean," I replied, flashing her a smile. "And you must be miss..."

Oh god, please say Hannigan.

"Ms. Sorenson," she replied, stressing the Ms., and I just kept my smile frozen in place, afraid of saying anything that would have Owen tying cinder blocks to my feet. "Did you not find a pet to your liking?" she continued, her voice low, and the way she was looking at me I felt like a piece of meat. The ghost girl was gone, and now Hannigan was hitting on me. I blamed Owen.

"I believe I did," I finally said, deciding to be honest. Maybe she knew where the girl was. "But I seem to have lost her."

"Lost her?" her face was several degrees of confused. "All of our lovely pets are in—"

Movement over her shoulder distracted me and I quickly schooled my features so as not to alert her. The ghost appeared near the window, her blonde hair long and half-plaited, wide green eyes imploring as she shook her head no, a finger to her lips. She didn't want me to say anything?

"I meant to another buyer," I explained to Hannigan, wrapping an arm around her exposed shoulders, increasing my smile's wattage before I glanced back at the ethereal girl behind me. "But perhaps my partner—"

"Oh, are you married?" she asked, and I briefly entertained the idea of suggesting Owen and I were together, but our backstories were set already, something boring about banking. I settled for relating that he was my business associate, we were looking for someone for our office. It was all so sickening.

I led her back to the main room and managed to ditch her in front of a couple who wanted to purchase Mallory. Thankfully it wasn't Creep Number One and his wife. I doubled back, nodding amiably at the guard I passed as he headed back toward the adoption center. I paused then, soft steps approaching from my left, so light that if I hadn't been listening closely I would've missed them. Ghost.

I reached out and pulled her into the space with me, haunted green eyes finding my own before she seemed to visibly relax, determination setting in. The first thing I noticed was that she was beautiful, there was nothing you could do to hide that. And then I couldn't stop my doctor instincts from kicking in as I looked over every inch of her, finding bruised wrists and reddened fingers, a discoloration marring her neck. "Pumpkin—" I started, but she interrupted me, saying names too quickly for me to understand.

"Please, if you—" she continued.

"Whoa, pumpkin, hold on," I managed, seeing another mark on the side of her face, near her temple. I went to brush back some of her hair to get a better look and she cowered away from me, my insides twisting at the realization. Someone was hurting her. And if they were hurting her, they might be hurting the others, too. "Are you alright?" I asked softly, wondering what I couldn't see. Wondering what emotional trauma she may have also endured.

"You're here to save them, right?" she asked suddenly, her eyes now meeting mine. I knew then she was putting everyone else above herself. She was covered in bruises and what looked like burns. She was suffering here, and the only thing she was concerned about was saving the other girls.

The hope I'd seen in her seemed to fade and I realized it was taking me too long to reply. "Yes," I said forcefully, warming her fingers with my own. "Yes."

Her relief was clear and she pulled her hands from mine as she reached into the apron she was wearing. I knew then we wouldn't be able to save her like the others. Did she work here? No, she was a captive here, it was in the slight shake of her hands. "Here," she said, quickly writing on the piece of cloth she'd been carrying. "I know you can't get all of them. But..." she sighed, and I looked at the words she'd written. Names. "These three. If... if you can only take one..." She thrust the list toward me, her eyes bright with tears. "Take Abigail," she said softly. "She's only ten."