She giggled, her sadness passing.
Then I turned to Massimo. I was ready.
We left the lunchroom. I walked behind Blackwood and Massimo.
“I’ll pray for you, child!” Sister Vera called behind me, sounding smug.
I flipped her the middle finger, drawing titters of laughter from the other patients in the dining hall.
Massimo and Blackwood were talking. I listened with half attention to what they were saying.
“No, we don’t give the patients anything stimulating in solitary, it’s too exciting. No books, no pencils; they could hurt themselves. No chalk after someone ate it. It’s a place to find peace within, and it’s easier for them to find that peace without distractions.”
The lack of something to read or draw on was the worst part of solitary. That and the way the ghosts seemed to come when you had nothing to distract yourself with.
We took the rusty cage elevator down to the lowest floor. Pavol’s office was down here too, but in a different wing.
Dr. Blackwood opened the various security doors, and I followed him through. Massimo brought up the rear.
We walked down the long hallway of solitary confinement rooms. I could hear that some were occupied. This was where Mira had stayed near the end so that they could take her for surgery and carve her up with fewer people seeing. Her ghost was everywhere I looked.
Blackwood unlocked a heavy door and switched the lights on inside.
“You know the drill, Katarina. In you go,” he said, and stepped back.
Massimo was closer to me. I had to brush past him to enter the room. As I did, his hand touched mine.
He pressed something into my palm and closed my hand around it quickly.
Then I was inside the dingy white room, turning around. The door closed. The observation slot slammed shut, and I was alone. I opened my hand to see what Massimo had given me.
A tiny bunch of snowdrops.
15
MASSIMO
The next day, I left Hallow Hall and drove into the city proper. The institute sat about a thirty-minute drive outside the city. It had only been a week, and yet I was claustrophobic as fuck. I needed to get out.
I couldn’t imagine how Katarina was surviving in solitary. I couldn’t be locked inside such a small space with my demons. I’d go mad, and I wasn’t sure how much sanity I had left anyway.
The neighborhood was quiet early in the morning. Woodsmoke rose from stone chimneys, and the storefronts were just coming to life. Pigeons scattered as I walked across the slick, icy cobblestone. This was the area where Vargas had served as the local priest. I was willing to bet Katarina’s mother also lived around here.
I made for a small café and ordered a double espresso. I’d changed into my usual clothes before I’d gotten to town. The key to being a faceless assassin was not to draw attention to yourself. Walking around a hushed city suburb would be cause for gossip. This wasn’t the kind of place that had a high turnover of clergy, I was guessing.
I read the papers while I drank my coffee. The first real coffee since before I’d arrived at Hallow Hall. It was like nectar.
I checked my emails. Hallow Hall was in a Wi-Fi dead spot, but fortunately I had satellite internet on my cell.
An email from Giada popped up.
Good morning,
IT guy here with an update.
So, here is Elena Dmitrova’s address, attached.
Second of all, Centrium Group is an interesting company, and by that I mean suspicious as fuck. They only own one asset (lol). Clearly they’re a shell corp, and it’ll take me a while to track down what companies they’re associated with. One interesting fact is that they’re registered in Bulgaria even though they’ve always done business in Italy.