The Epidemic Read Free Page A

gets to finding me.
    The man shrugs. “It’s your money.” He eases off the brake and pulls into the street.
    Once we’re moving, I check the mirror on the passenger side for Deacon’s reflection. I watch until the bus station fades from view, and when it’s gone completely, I hurt more than ever.
    I’m all alone.

CHAPTER TWO
    WHEN I WAS A LITTLE girl, A Doctor brought me to a man who’d just lost his child. This man, my eventual father, was suffering from the death of his wife and daughter. I should have been a temporary relief from grief, but Dr. Arthur Pritchard had different plans for me. He let my father keep me and raise me as his dead daughter. I was brainwashed to believe it—although I don’t know how.
    For years after, the grief department employed me, teaching me ways to adjust my personality to suit their clients. With the exception of my last assignment, the one that changed things, I was always able to adapt. But I fell in love with a family and lost myself. I was almost gone completely.
    As I sit in the backseat of the taxi, I push up my sleeve and stare down at the gold bracelet around my wrist. I trace myfinger along the delicate band, determined to keep my mind clear this time. Isaac Perez, the boyfriend of my last assignment, gave me this bracelet. During my time with him, we crossed a few lines, made it all too real. It nearly destroyed me. But in the end Isaac found closure, and he gave this to me as a gift. And right now it adds to my strength. It resets me in my purpose.
    Despite my fear of the grief department, I have to find Arthur Pritchard and demand he tell me who I really am. I won’t leave until he does. And while he’s at it, he can tell me what the grief department wants with me—what they’re really doing there. My father warned me that Arthur doesn’t have much clout there anymore, saying a board of directors has taken over. But Arthur created the department; I have to believe he knows how to stop them too. I just want a life that’s my own. I want the truth.
    The cabdriver pulls to the corner of Pearl and Fifth and bumps the curb, startling me from my thoughts. My head is a mess. In the last forty-eight hours I’ve lost my identity, my family, my friends. Even Deacon. It’s hard to keep on a mask of calm when I lean forward and ask the driver how much.
    The guy swings his arm over the seat as he turns back to look at me. “Five fifty, sweetheart,” he says, prickling my nerves. I fish out a ten from my pocket and tell him to keep the change.
    I lower my hood and climb out of the cab, glad when it drives away; the smell of pine air freshener is still in my nose. The rain is barely a drizzle now, and I glance around, trying to reacquaint myself with the surroundings of the area. Thingshave changed since the last time I was here, updates to the two-story market next to the light-rail tracks.
    The building has a brick façade and lush flower baskets hinting at its charm. There’s a restaurant with a covered patio out front, twinkling white lights on its posts, and the smell of grilled food thick in the air. Now that I’m out of immediate danger, even the horror and anxiety of the day isn’t enough to cover the fact that I haven’t eaten since this morning.
    I walk over to scan the restaurant menu at the front desk, but the dinners are overpriced, so I head into the indoor market and glance at the stores. There’s a candy shop, and I slip inside and buy a handful of chocolates and a lollipop for a dollar twenty-five. My nose twitches, and I notice a barrel of roasted almonds. My eyes start to itch with allergies, and I thank the woman behind the counter before fleeing for another area of the market.
    I stop by the food court and buy a rice bowl with avocado. I gulp it down, and when I’m done eating, I wander over to a bench near the center fountain. I sit and pull my legs up to wrap my arms around them, resting my chin on my knees. I eat the chocolates I bought earlier,