Chapter 5
FIVE
I kept my eyes peeled as I moved deeper into town, watching every shadow for the man who’d followed me. Thankfully, it seemed like he’d finally disappeared.
The city was alive in a way the compound had never been.
At the compound, the quiet was broken only by the raucous voices of the men or the occasional hum of bikes tearing through the stillness.
Here, the noise was constant, even this late in the evening.
I hated it, even as I found myself mesmerized by its chaotic energy.
It was fascinating, but it reminded me why I needed to get far, far away.
A run-down gas station came into view, and the sight of it spurred me on. The exterior paint had peeled off in places, leaving bare cinder block exposed, and the fluorescent sign above the pumps flickered and buzzed.
I skirted around the side, my gaze snagging on the grimy bathroom door. A rusted lock looped through the hook, but it wasn’t fastened. My heart hammered as I slipped inside, then locked it behind me.
The bathroom was as dingy as I’d expected, the tiles stained, and the mirror cracked. Dirt and dead bugs littered the floor, and I used the sole of my boot to sweep away what I could before carefully settling the backpack at my feet.
I lifted my gaze to the mirror and stared at my reflection. I looked just as terrible as I felt. Scratches marred my forehead, my lip was split and bruised, and dark circles ringed my eyes. And my hair… Well, that, I could fix.
Pulling out the box of dye, I quickly mixed the solution, the chemical smell filling the small room as I worked it through my hair. There was no clock and I didn’t have a phone, so I counted the seconds down one by one, pacing the tiny bathroom while the dye soaked in.
Finally I leaned over the sink and rinsed it out. Dark water spiraled down the drain. When I straightened and looked back at the mirror, I froze.
The woman staring back at me was a stranger. My golden hair was gone, replaced by a rich, dark brown with hints of red glinting in the garish single bulb overhead. The change was startling, but it was exactly what I needed.
A little shaken by the transformation, I ran the cheap brush through my damp hair until it lay smoothly around my shoulders.
Satisfied, I tossed the empty dye box in the trash, then made my way around to the front door.
I yanked on the handle, but the door refused to budge.
Inside, I noticed a metal bar blocking it from the inside.
Of course. I mentally rolled my eyes. The window was the only thing open this time of night.
I rounded the side of the building where a narrow, reinforced window faced the parking lot. A young woman sat hunched over behind the counter, her gaze fixed on the phone in her hands. Her head snapped up, and she reluctantly shuffled over when I knocked gently on the window.
“Yeah?” she called through the speaker, voice tinged with irritation.
“Do you know if there’s a library nearby?”
She blinked at me like I’d just asked for her first born child. “What?”
“A library. Is there one in town?” When she just shrugged, I bit my lip in thought. “Do you have a phone book?”
She shook her head. “We don’t get those anymore.”
Damn. I felt tears crowd my eyes, burning across the bridge of my nose, and I swallowed hard to keep them from breaking free.
The girl watched my expression shift and seemed to reconsider.“Hang on.”
She picked up her phone and tapped the screen a few times, then glanced my way. “There’s one about five minutes that way.” She pointed vaguely down the road.
Relief washed through me. “Thank you so much.”
Without another word she dropped back onto the stool and went right back to her phone, ignoring me completely. I adjusted the backpack on my shoulders and headed in the direction she’d indicated.
The bus station lay in the opposite direction, so I’d have to backtrack later. But I didn’t care. An idea had been gnawing at me ever since I’d left the cemetery, and I needed answers.
A small white sign directed me down a narrow side road to the library, on the corner next to a dentist office. I slipped inside unnoticed, the door closing quietly behind me. The place smelled faintly of old paper and ink, and I inhaled deeply.
A few people milled around the bookshelves, and one man sat at a table, the soft scrape filling the air as he turned the pages.
But no one paid me any attention as I slid into an empty seat at one of the computers and woke the screen.
For a moment I just stared at it, debating what I was about to do.
Taking a deep breath, I typed Lily Anderson’s name into the search bar. The results populated quickly. Several social media pages came up as well as articles from various Lily Andersons around the country. I narrowed my search, adding the girl’s date of birth and the state.
The screen refreshed, and my heart gave a little jolt as a link at the top of the page caught my attention—an obituary from the local paper. Pulse racing, I clicked it and read through the meager contents.
According to the reporter, Lily Anderson had died at age three following an unexpected illness. I could find nothing else. No article from the paper itself, no mention of her name in conjunction with any of the local funeral homes.
It was as if she’d been forgotten, completely erased from existence.
I leaned back in the chair, staring at the screen as thoughts raced through my head. I’d heard stories before of people forging documents, stealing identities… becoming someone else entirely.
But knowing it was possible and knowing how to do it were two very different things.
I pulled up a search engine and typed the question that had been forming in my mind since the cemetery:
How would one go about getting new identification without documents?
I barely had time to skim the first few lines before a voice called out across the room.
“Closing time!” A young librarian walked past my table carrying a stack of books.
I offered her a stilted smile and quickly logged off. As unobtrusively as I’d come, I slipped out of the chair, shouldered my bag, and disappeared back into the night.
I needed to find a way to make Ember Pearson disappear—forever.