Broken Beauty (#1, Broken Beauty Novellas)

Chapter Nine

I arrive on time to hell two days later. It's more depressing than I remember. Fabio – or whatever his name is – takes up his position inside the building, drawing the looks of the employees coming in. I go straight to my assigned cube. I tried to straighten it up the other day, but am still disgusted as I turn on the computer. I didn't pass Gianna, and there's no one around me yet.

I hate feeling alone. The sounds from what one of the ladies calls the dorm area unsettle me even more. I don't know anyone here. Even if I did, I have nowhere to hide, if they come after me. Crossing my arms, I walk back to the front of the center. Fabio glances at me, and there are members of the press peering into the front door waiting for that money shot of me mopping or something.

"Where's Gianna?" I ask the receptionist.

"Car broke down. On her way." The plump black lady's name tag reads Wendy. I don't remember meeting her the other day, but I really only remember Gianna. "Take this back to the clinic." She hands me a file.

I take it and walk down the hallway, past the scary dorms that smell like someone tried to cover body odor with a can of Lysol. I hurry past them to the medical office in the back. It must've opened early today; there are already women in the waiting area. The nurses' assistants are triaging two women, one of whom is visibly battered. I clench the folder tighter.

I reach the reception area and hand over the folder then turn to leave fast.

"Hey, ah ..." someone calls.

I turn.

"We need some hands down the hall. Come on."

Before I can object, the older woman ducks into a room and talks to someone else. I start down the hall, not sure I can stomach any sort of medical stuff. After my stay in the hospital, I never want to see another syringe or pill in my life. The older woman trots away and walks into another room. When she reappears, she's holding a tray full of bottles of urine.

"Take this to the lab," she says, shoving it into my hand.

Disgusted, I step back fast. They have lids, but I've got awful luck and I can see them all spilling on me. None of them do. By the time I look up to ask where the lab is, the woman is already down the hall.

Irritated, I return to the reception area.

"Lab?" I ask the woman there.

"Two halls up, five doors down."

I follow the instructions, walking slowly. I so want to take a picture of this tray full of pee for Ari. She doesn't believe me when I tell her how bad this place is. I reach the lab area and set the tray on the half door.

"Hello? I have ... um, bottles of pee here," I call awkwardly.

"Come in!" someone calls from the back of the room. "One minute and I'll be out."

I enter. There's a lot of lab equipment on one side, but it looks old. There's duct tape around one machine. I set the tray down on a clean, stainless steel counter next to a deep sink and wait. One of the machines is on; I hear humming.

"Okay, our first batch." A trim, middle-aged woman appears from the back room.

I don't know how these people can be so cheerful. Wendy, the receptionist, is the only one who looks like she hates her job.

"You new?" she asks.

"Involuntarily, yes," I answer. "I'm Mia."

"Ah. You're part of the special program." She smiles. "I'm Ricki. Who's your sponsor?"