X-Marks: Stealing Shadows

Fortunes

It had been weeks since we had seen Milo. Valencia still held onto his words, and her bruises showed.

She waited for me outside the locker rooms.

I had signed up to be her assistant again.

Valencia held her glass board loose in her fingertips. Her long chestnut hair was hidden in a bun. The only hint of the Valencia I had known was the deep red of her lips.

I walked closer to her and checked my dress for any twisted straps. I needed Valencia to see how careful I was with my uniform, especially today.

"We'll be making a special trip to Director Cohen's office," Valencia said her jaw clenched at his name.

She looked to each side as if Cohen was a ghost that lived in the walls. I had the only seen him once, but just from afar. The quiet that followed his name left him without any mysterious qualities. He was a man you didn't want to know, or him to know you.

Valencia put her hand on my shoulder and said, "He'll be very impressed by how well behaved you are, I'm sure."

She stressed her words as if a danger loomed above and waited to collapse on us.

We walked with a fence of silence between us. I thought about telling Valencia my plan, but the longer the silence continued, the less it seemed like the right time. We walked until we reached an unfamiliar lobby.

Within its glass walls, furniture faced a wide desk in the middle. Behind the desk was an old woman in yellow with large round glasses.

"We're here for our appointment with Director Cohen," Valencia said to the woman in yellow.

"You're right on time, darling," Cohen said from behind the desk.

He stood in the frame of a door with his name Charles S. Cohen written in polished silver.

"I've been waiting," Cohen said with smacking lips.

Cohen had a way of winding each of his words in a way so that they were never fully understood. It was a truly terrifying art.

Valencia straightened her back like a soldier ready for battle.

"H38, this is Director Cohen," Valencia said and pushed me forward.

This was my moment.

I pinched the sides of my dress and lowered my head. It was something I had seen in movies as a way of greeting important people.

Cohen looked down at me like I was a bedbug nestled in his favorite chair.

"At least she's mute," he said.

"H38, why don't you wait on one of the chairs?" Valencia said.

I sat on one of the oversized chairs and wished I could disappear. To cause such a face, I must have failed.

Cohen walked closer to Valencia. His hand hovered above her back and traveled down her spine as the door shut behind them. Nausea rippled up my throat.

It was hard to breathe. What I had just seen was not normal. Not at all.

The woman in yellow was still behind her desk. Her body was hunched over, eyes shut, and her mouth trembled with a snore.

On the wall, there were portraits of many people. One of Cohen himself. His greedy eyes and smug smile watched me back. My eyes snapped back to the floor.

There on the tiles, a luster caught my attention.

With the woman in yellow in a deep sleep, I stood from the chairs to investigate. I traced my fingers across the glossy fixture and slipped them underneath. It was a glass board, just like Valencia's.