Morana didn’t know what to do with that. Another message came through before she could decide how to proceed.
imreaper00: i have my reasons for helping you.
Morana typed quickly.
nerdytechgoddess00: what are they?
imreaper00: i want you to find the truth, morana
So, he knew who she was. Morana stared at the message, an unfamiliar feeling settling in the pit of her stomach. She didn’t understand it. A frown creased her forehead as her fingers moved.
nerdytechgoddess00: i already know the truth
There was a pause before the reply came.
imreaper00: there’s still much you don’t know
Goosebumps erupted on her arms at the last message. She rubbed her skin to settle it, her chest heaving without even realizing. Trusting her gut, she wrote out her message.
nerdytechgoddess00: i want to meet you
The cursor blinked five times before his – and she assumed it was a man – replied.
imreaper00: when the time comes
imreaper00: for now, use the keyword
nerdytechgoddess00: what will i find?
His reply was cryptic.
imreaper00: sources
Sources of what? Before he could disappear, there was one thing she absolutely needed to know.
nerdytechgoddess00: how did you bypass my security?
She waited and waited for his response but nothing came. Frustrated at not knowing that, she went back to the keywords and modified them – ‘tenebrae’ + ‘1990s’ + ‘missing girls’ + ‘mafia’ + ‘flesh trade’
It was with apprehension that she added the keyword, hoping against hope that this was a fluke and she wouldn’t find anything that pointed to anything like this. The families, to her knowledge, had never traded in the flesh. It didn’t make sense. This would access an entirely different part of the net, a darker part of the net that she’d never ventured to and it scared her slightly.
The search slowly loaded and a barrage of new information slammed her. Her eyes scanned through the data feverishly – girls gone missing, girls being auctioned, girls being sold, and so much more disturbing news that made her flesh crawl. However, none of the data talked about girls below the age of 10. The information, as disturbing as it was, didn’t have anything to do with the missing girls from Tenebrae.
Sighing, she pushed away from her laptop and got up from the couch, stretching out her muscles, giving herself distance to think about it. Walking to the window that overlooked the lake in the distance, Morana took in the house she would now be living in. It looked serene, almost peaceful. But the man who occupied it wasn’t. He wouldn’t be until the truth about his sister came to light.
There was a reason why the man online had wanted her to add ‘flesh trade’ on to the list of her keywords. If it wasn’t important, she doubted he would have gone to the trouble of tracking her down and getting in contact with her, whoever he was. He knew her name and he knew something about the girls.
A ping from her laptop made her take a quick look towards it. Going back to the couch, Morana sat down and saw all the results for the search she’d run. Fingers on the keypad, she browsed through the headlines, bylines, and any names at a breakneck pace, her sense of urgency increasing the deeper she went into it. Each piece of information had a certain username attached to it in the place of source.
The man had told her she would find sources.
Diligently getting to work, Morana filtered articles by the sources and allowed the system to accumulate it in sections. Ten seconds later, most of the articles sorted down under one source name – Distance Y.
What the hell was Distance Y?
Before she could follow that train of thought, a ping from one of her programs diverted her attention. Her customized facial recognition was complete. Pulling up the program, Morana didn’t find any hits on names but her software had found two other pictures of the man caught on public cameras, one in Shadow Port and one in South America. She sent the image to both Tristan and Dante’s numbers and waited for them to reply. They didn’t.
A low ache started to form right behind her eyebrows. Pulling off her glasses, Morana pressed the heel of her palms into her eyes, groaning in frustration at the way things were going. She had more questions than answers and every time she felt she was close to something substantial, it slipped through her fingers. Gritting her teeth in frustration, Morana stared at the ceiling for a long minute, contemplating her next course of action.