Chapter Fourteen
Evangeline
I haven’t yet turned the “open” sign on the front door this morning, and the shop is almost eerily silent.
Normally, I cherish this time to myself.
The quiet stillness and the smell of coffee brewing always allow me the opportunity to get some work done before the morning customers or employees arrive.
This morning, however, I can’t enjoy it because there are way too many thoughts swarming around in my head, and my curiosity is eating at me.
Ever since Dante warned me that things are happening I didn’t know about, I’ve felt an immense weight on my chest. He spoke with such foreboding and confidence I can’t dismiss it.
Certainly not after the cold way Uncle Silas treats me when I hand him his coffee or ask him questions he doesn’t want to answer.
So ready to tackle some of my demons, this morning I find myself standing outside the shipping room doors. I’ve walked in here a hundred times before, but not once have I ever felt so nervous. Perhaps I’m afraid of what I might find out?
But most of all, I’m afraid Dante might be right, and I really have been living in ignorance, not knowing what’s going on in my family’s store.
Working up the nerve, I take a breath and push open both the swinging doors.
Inside, cardboard boxes are stacked neatly on long metal shelves, ready to be shipped to their destinations.
Their barcodes and addresses are front and center.
Some are printed with labels to California, others to Texas and Florida, as well as states we ship to on a regular basis.
They all appear to be ordinary orders, just our everyday business.
So nervous, my fingers shake as I reach for a box cutter on a nearby worktable, and my heart is hammering so loud it feels as if it’s beating outside my body.
Grabbing the first box I see, I slice through the tape seal on the top, careful to make sure it can be resealed with no one knowing what I’ve done.
As soon as it reveals its contents, I let out a thankful breath I didn’t even realize I’d been holding.
Relief floods through me when I can see everything is as it should be.
Beneath all the packing paper, there are small decorative boxes filled with bath bombs and soaps of every scent and color, every one clearly labeled.
Oh, thank goodness. No issues. Everything is on the up and up. Dante was wrong.
Because I have a feeling I should open just one more box to make sure everything is as it should be, I grasp a random one towards the bottom of the stack.
I wrestle with the weight of the boxes as I tell myself I just want to confirm one more time that everything’s okay and that absolutely nothing nefarious or criminal is going on in my pharmacy.
But as I pick up the box to put it on the table, I can tell it feels wrong, off, not like the other box I opened.
This one feels different. Carefully breaking the seal as I did before, I reach inside, slowly peeling away the brown paper.
Immediately, I see the usual bottles of oils with our shop’s delicate labels: lavender, rose, eucalyptus, and lemongrass.
Picking one up, I know these bottles don’t seem right. Unscrewing the cap on one small amber bottle, I pour the contents into my hand, gasping in surprise.
Instead of oil, my palm is full of powdered white dust. My throat constricts, and I can’t breathe.
With shaking hands, I pull out another bottle, another amber glass with our pretty label on it.
Inside are some small white tablets I don’t recognize.
As a pharmacist, I can usually identify pills on sight, but I’ve never seen these before.
They have no imprint, nothing indicating what they might be.
“Oh my God,” I whisper, voice cracking.
Panicking, I go to check one more box and find that the box labeled “detergent powder” is definitely not soap. My stomach twists, and nausea bubbles in my throat.
This is what Dante tried to warn me about.
He didn’t get into specifics, perhaps to protect me if the police raided us, giving me plausible deniability.
So, he trails my every step, and his men are always lurking in the shadows.
Because my shop, my family’s legacy, has been turned into something dark and criminal.
Even worse, I’m positive Uncle Silas, my own blood, is at the center of it all.
I go to put the caps back on all the bottles and carefully tape the boxes shut with fumbling hands, making sure they look the same as before, untouched, just as I found them.
But everything is not as it was before. The difference is I now know what’s hiding back here, under my very nose.
Sinking onto a nearby stool, I press my trembling hands against my face.
How long has this been going on? How many shipments?
How much blood money passed through these walls while I smiled at customers and handed out legal prescriptions?
Mixed ingredients for what I thought was our legitimate store.
I know what I mixed was legal, but it’s apparent what is in some of those shipments is not.
Our store and our shipping business are being used to funnel illegal drugs, making the process look legitimate.
Tears sting my eyes, but I’m more angry than heartbroken. Uncle Silas lied to me, poisoned our name, and our family’s hard work. And now I’m trapped. The police will think I’m complicit.
How can I expose him without losing everything I hold dear? My business, my life … and Dante?
Though realistically, I know Dante can handle himself. He didn’t earn the nickname “Il Malefico” for nothing. He has repeatedly said he has a plan and asked me to be patient. How can I sit back and be patient, knowing I could go to jail at any moment?
I grip the edge of the counter until my knuckles whiten as I try to examine this through a scientific, logical lens. After all, that’s exactly what I was trained to do as a scientist. Look at things objectively, without emotions clouding my judgment.
Maybe Dante’s right. Maybe I’m not safe here anymore. But one thing is certain, this princess isn’t waiting in a tower to be rescued. I know that if I have to save myself, I will.