Jenna produced a smile that was as counterfeit as the story she’d given the man who was now gifting her with the opportunity for which she had waited six long weeks. “I was beginning to think I’d gotten the time wrong, Dr. Hancock.”
Inside, she cringed at the lame response. God, she was tired. And desperate for the truth and for things forbidden to her. Like booze and smokes and him—the man she’d once trusted and loved with all her heart. The same one who’d turned his back on her and this search.
“We had an unexpected staff meeting. I apologize for the delay, Miss Thomas. Follow me, please.”
“Thank you.” A new kind of anticipation fired through her. The moment she had waited for was at hand. But what if the unexpected staff meeting was about her? What if they were on to her and…?
Stop, Jenna. Just stop.
A smile that hurt her heart tugged at her lips. She sounded like him. Some tiny part of her wondered where he was today. She hadn’t seen or spoken to him in nearly a year. Not since the last time.
Focus, Jenna. You have to focus.
Settling her attention on the man in front of her, she considered what she had learned about him and this secretive institute. Dr. Stuart Hancock was well north of retirement age and ruled this facility as if it were his kingdom and the residents his subjects. There was nothing about his frame or face that could be called powerful or distinguished. He looked like someone’s chubby uncle or older brother. A round, jolly sort of fellow who dressed up like Santa Claus each year to entertain the kiddies.
Except there was nothing soft or jovial about the man, according to Reginald Waters, the person who had given her hope and, more importantly, help. Hancock was reportedly stern and stubborn, especially when it came to protecting those under his dominion. Jenna had learned a great deal from Waters. She hoped she could trust what he’d shared with her. And though Hancock might not be the monster who stole Jenna’s life all those years ago, he was the gatekeeper now. He had been for several years. The idea tore at her soul. All these years and she hadn’t known…
She drew in a steadying breath and directed her interest to her surroundings. All she had to do was get this job and she was in. If she proved herself worthy and gained Hancock’s trust, she would have full access.
Like the waiting room, the corridor beyond the secured door was a blank slate of white walls, ceiling and floor. At the far end another security access area waited. A blue-uniformed guard stood by. He nodded to the administrator, pressed the necessary button, and the bulletproof glass wall parted, allowing passage.
“You’ll need to leave your personal belongings here,” Hancock said.
“Of course.” Jenna handed her purse to the guard. She raised her arms while he moved the security wand over her body. Prepared for this step, she’d worn no earrings or jewelry, not even a watch. Not that time really mattered much to her anymore.
The guard nodded to the administrator and Jenna followed Dr. Hancock beyond the final security point, where the corridor widened then divided to detour around the attendants’ desk. A hush teeming with secrets permeated the air on this floor. The students resided in small private rooms designed for their own protection.
It wasn’t that a single resident of this facility was dangerous in a sinister way. Not at all. But the residents were unpredictable. An explosion of violence could follow too much of the most ordinary stimuli. At least that was what she’d been told, and she had corroborated the information as best she could with research of her own.
Hancock acknowledged the attendants—some teachers, some nurses—on duty. Each eyed Jenna as she breached their territory. Based on what Hancock had told her, she would be the first new hire at this facility in half a decade. Guess that made her special.
One thing was certain: it made her lucky as hell.
But then, she’d had help. Another secret that had to be kept.
Outside a door marked Classroom One, Hancock paused.
“This is one of six classrooms. At this time in the afternoon, students are encouraged to let their imaginations guide them. As you can see, some read while others draw. We’ve decided to expand our curriculum and include a more structured fine arts endeavor.”
Her knees shaking, Jenna managed a nod. For the first time she dared to allow her gaze to rove over the wall of windows that separated the classroom from the corridor. Books lined the walls except for one end where the shelves were stocked with games and drawing supplies. In the center of the room a long table flanked by chairs held court. At the table, students, heads bowed, focused on their choice of entertainment.
Jenna’s barely restrained interest settled lastly on the girl at one end of the table. Her breath caught before she could stop it. It would have been impossible for Hancock to miss the sound. A new kind of fear mushroomed in her chest.
“That one is a very special little girl,” Hancock noted, his attention settling on the dark-haired child as well. “Her name is Diamond. If she responds to you, all the others will follow suit.”
Nerves jangling, Jenna nodded her understanding. She felt certain she should say something brilliant, but for the life of her she couldn’t summon a word.
“I have reservations about your ability to fit in here, Miss Thomas.” Hancock scrutinized her. “Ultimately, it’s not me you need to impress. The Wallace Institute exists for these students. If they accept you, then the job is yours.”
Her heart pounding, Jenna managed a stiff smile. Don’t blow it. Stay cool. “I understand.” Reading him was easy now. He wanted her to see that he wasn’t happy about how she got a foot in the door. There was a smug arrogance about his expression. He expected her to fail; maybe he even wanted her to. Then he would have the last laugh. His attitude wasn’t really surprising. No one liked it when someone higher up on the food chain got involved with personnel matters.
“Five minutes, Miss Thomas. That’s all the time I can give you to prove yourself.” He gestured to the plaque on the wall by the door that reminded those who entered that the room was monitored by security. “I’ll be watching from right here so the children don’t see me watching and become agitated. These students are very special and they are our responsibility. There are some who don’t agree with what we do and would want to thwart our program.”
She was the last person on the planet he should worry about. She wouldn’t do anything that might hurt or upset a child.
As if he’d read her thoughts, he added, “Even the most careful background check can sometimes fail. Friends often see what they want to see.”
“Believe me, Dr. Hancock, these children have nothing to fear from me. As you say, they’re very special. The Wallace Institute’s program is one of a kind. You can count on me.” At least until I have what I need.
Finally, the administrator entered the code and opened the door. “Five minutes,” he reminded her.
Hancock didn’t like being outmaneuvered. He’d made that clear when she’d first applied for the position after being recommended by a friend. During the initial interview Hancock had gone so far as to say she appeared to have come out of nowhere. New to the Huntsville area and with only one verifiable credential—Reginald Waters. She wasn’t the administrator’s preferred candidate, but the pressure from an influential and wealthy benefactor of the institute, her friend, had ensured Hancock’s concession if not his approval.
Whatever it took.
Jenna breathed deeply and entered the secured space. The door closed behind her, making the classroom, which was just as stark-white as the rest of the place save for the colorful spines of books, feel cramped and suffocating though it was quite large. She noted the two small security cameras located near the ceiling at each end of the room. The table, flanked by twelve chairs, occupied most of the floor space. Jenna saved her scrutiny of the occupant of one of those chairs in particular for last.