Eden wished Rory good luck and, although her lip split open again, she grinned at him genuinely as she watched him leave for the Paradise conference. There was something beneath the swell of pride in her heart as she headed back into the kitchen, where Daphne and Eloise were waiting for her help, but she pushed it down. She’d cried when Rory had graduated from the university with his dual degree, and she’d cried when he’d been awarded for his contribution to the Garden. She’d felt the tears well up as–just minutes ago–he walked away from her down the sidewalk, heading for the rail station that Eden had walked past a million times and never descended into. The tears hadn’t come, and instead she felt some kind of unfamiliar twist in her gut that sent her pushing into the kitchen more aggressively than she probably should have.
“Are you okay? What did Rory need?” Daphne asked, leaving a streak of flour on her face as she brushed an errant piece of hair out of her eyes.
“Where are you at with the loaves?” Eden asked, ignoring the concern in Daphne’s eyes.
“They’re rising on the counter,” Daphne said. “Eloise is working on the cakes now.”
“Good,” Eden said with a tight lipped nod. “We need to have it all done by–”
“10:00pm, no later,” Eloise and Daphne said together.
Eden snorted. “Smart asses,” she said, softening.
While Eloise mixed the batter for the cakes that would be served at the Quarter Centennial and Daphne prepared the pans, Eden moved to the back counter to check on the rising dough. Once it was ready, she would twist the dough into intricate knots, dust everything in sugar and spices, and bake it until the entire kitchen smelled like her childhood.
Elena Cooper had made spicebread for Eden when she was sick, when she was hurt, when she was celebrating, when she was broken. She’d taught Eden to make it when she was young, and Eden had carried the recipe forward in her heart as much as in her mind. She wasn’t sure if the Quarter Centennial, the 25th birthday of Cardinal Enterprises, was anything to celebrate, but that was the magic of spicebread: a perfect fit for any occasion. And Eden was still deciding whether she was hurt.
“Are you alright?” Daphne’s voice, though soft, made Eden flinch as she joined her beside the spicebread.
“You should wear a bell,” Eden said, forcing a laugh and avoiding the question again.
Daphne didn’t say anything but raised a well groomed eyebrow. She folded her arms and leaned against the counter and waited, as she often did, until Eden’s defense broke down.
“Sometimes, I wish you didn’t know me so well,” Eden said.
“And yet,” Daphne smiled.
“Is it so wrong?” Eden blurted out. “That I’m jealous?” That feeling that had lurked beneath the pride in her heart had not died and instead only gathered strength, and Eden’s heart sank as she named it. “What kind of a friend am I?”
“What happened?” Daphne asked.
“Rory’s leaving for the weekend. Leaving. Leaving Haven,” Eden said, the words feeling clunky in her mouth. “He got invited to the Paradise conference. I told him how proud I am of him and to be safe, and not to come home without a souvenir.”
Daphne laughed, “What would you do at the Paradise conference, Eden?”
Eden nudged her in the ribs with her elbow. “He’s been with the company for a week maybe, Daph,” Eden said, more quietly. “A week, and he gets to go on a big adventure. Meanwhile, I’ve been here for, what, seven years? Eight now? I’ve never left the city and who knows if I ever will? It’s not that I want to go to the conference–boring. But I want to go somewhere.”
“It’s okay to be jealous,” Daphne whispered. She placed one hand over Eden’s and squeezed it gently once. “As long as you don’t put it on Rory.”
Eden nodded. She rubbed her eyes, suddenly feeling more tired than she had any right to. “I’m fine,” she said. “I’m just tired. Thanks, Daphne. Really.”
“Any time,” Daphne said. “Do me a favor?”
“What is it?”
Daphne’s eyes flicked down to her split lip, and Eden felt her cheeks warm. Self conscious, Eden touched her lip. It was still swollen.
“You’re strong, and you can take what they dish out,” Daphne said quietly. “Report it for the people who can’t. Alright?”
Eden sighed. “Alright.”
It wasn’t a long walk from the kitchen to Mara’s office, although it was on the other side of campus. The Cardinal Enterprises Main Campus was taller than it was wide, taking up only a single city block and housing somewhere around 500 employees. Most of them were scientists, people like Rory who were always chasing ways to make things more efficient, more productive. The second largest group were the Cards, red coated bullies who clogged the hallways and the streets and left no room for anyone else to breathe. They left the scientists alone, but the laborers were fair game.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
Eden was a part of that third, smallest group. She and the rest of the kitchen staff, along with the other support jobs, held the company together and were none the better for it. Eden took her time walking from her quiet kingdom to the wing where Mara wore the crown. She gritted her teeth as she finally reached the hallway that ended in Mara’s office and paused. Daphne’s voice in her mind propelled her forward. Making the report a day late over an injury so small felt ridiculous, and she fought the urge to retreat back down the hallway and head to her dorm on the second floor to sulk. Nothing would come of it and her cheeks flushed at the thought of her report making its way back to Hal. He’d think he really scared her, really shut her up. They’d had incidents before, and Eden had taken punishment from his cronies as much as from him, more often than not due to her inability to back down. Eden had reported the first incident, years ago, to Mara’s predecessor, but nothing had come of it besides sly grins in the hallway and barely muffled chuckles when she passed the Cards. It had been a long time since a Card had left a mark on her, though, and Eden wondered if the physical reminder or the escalation was what triggered Daphne’s insistence on documenting it.
There was already someone in Mara’s office when Eden paused outside her door. Through the frosted glass of the door, she could see the familiar outline of Mara, tall and broad shouldered but still sharply feminine. Her hair was cropped just above her shoulders and it swung as she was shaking her head at the two figures sitting across from her. The two figures slumped into each other, a man and a woman, crumpling into each other’s arms. Eden hesitated. This was a bad time. Whatever was being discussed within the confines of Mara’s office was bigger than what had happened to Eden. Just as she turned and committed to abandoning her plan and disappointing Daphne, the door opened and Mara ushered a middle aged couple out. She barely spared a glance at Eden, although her brow furrowed when she saw her. The woman was leaning heavily against the man, who had stopped to shake Mara’s hand and thank her before ushering his sobbing companion past Eden.
“What do you need?” Mara asked, once the couple were out of sight. She stepped aside and let Eden step into the office past her. “Change your mind about something? I bet that display helped.”
Mara snorted derisively as she flopped back into her chair and kicked her feet up on the desk. Eden perched on the edge of the chair across from her, still warm from its last inhabitant.
“That seemed pretty serious,” Eden said. She fidgeted with her hands in her lap.
“Haven’t seen their son since the day before yesterday,” Mara said. She never beat around the bush. “Alex Jepsen, junior software analyst. You know him?”
Eden shook her head. “The Hive?”
“Likely. I’ll get a squad on the case, but it’s never enough.”
Eden was quiet, trying not to let Mara’s barb stick in her. The insinuation was clear: Eden should put her objections aside, join the force, and help bring this man and the rest of the missing home, finally. It wouldn’t be enough, Eden knew, although that didn’t stop her from feeling a small nag of guilt that she would never admit to Hal or Mara. None of the missing, the dozens who had disappeared in the last twenty-five years, had ever been found. Dead or alive. To insinuate that Eden’s induction to the Card force would make the difference was ludicrous.
“What do you need?” Mara asked again after a beat too long of silence. “And what happened to your face?”
Eden grimaced. “Hal,” she said. “That’s what I came to tell you. Somehow, he heard about your offer and my answer. He had some thoughts on it.”
Mara’s lip twitched but she didn’t say anything. Eden looked down at her hands, at her feet, at anything besides Mara’s face, willing herself to keep her composure. This had been a mistake.
“I’ll talk to him,” Mara said, eventually.
“I’m sure,” Eden said. She couldn’t sit there any longer under Mara’s judgemental gaze. She pushed herself up out of the chair and started for the door.
“Wait,” Mara said. “Sit.” After a moment’s hesitation, as if it pained her, she added, “please.”
Something in her tone made Eden listen, and she lowered herself back down.
“You really should reconsider,” Mara said. “Things are getting worse, between you and me. Don’t go sounding the alarm, but this is the second report I’ve taken this week. Of a kidnapping, not of a minor abrasion.”
Eden bristled but she let Mara continue.
“You’re sharp. You’re a good shot. I know you can fight. How can you sit there and let the Hive terrorize the city when I’m offering you a chance to make a difference?”
“If that’s really what your Cards were about, Mara, we’d be having a different conversation.”
Mara’s hand slamming down on her desk made Eden jump. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she hissed. “You think Cardinal Enterprises is so bad, and we’re so evil, and you’re so much better than us. I get it. You’ve made that perfectly clear your whole career, Eden. ‘Just here for the paycheck’. How many times have I heard that? But while you’re hiding in that goddamned kitchen, I’m out on the streets–Hal’s out on the streets–we’re out on the streets actually fighting against the biggest threat Haven has seen.”
Eden leaned forward in her chair, her elbows resting on her knees, and met Mara’s hard gaze. “You can pretend you don’t see it all you want,” she said. She touched her lip again. “Your squads are full of bullies and assholes. When they’re playing security at the festival? They’re shaking vendors down for bribes. Same thing when they’re on the streets. Are you sure the biggest threat Haven’s ever seen isn’t your Cards?”
“Alex Jepsen is the fourth employee to be reported missing just this summer,” Mara said. “The second this week. And I just promised his parents that I would find him. That I would bring him home, even though none of the others have made it home. The Hive is escalating, and they’re becoming more dangerous by the day. You think Hal Cooke is bad? He’s nothing, Eden. Don’t be a child. The city police are looking for the missing, sure. But Alex Jepsen was one of us, and the Cards are working ten times harder than the underfunded, undertrained city idiots ever could.”
Eden stood, pushing her chair back roughly. This had been a mistake, and Daphne would hear about it first thing in the morning. “I shouldn’t have come here,” Eden said.
“Yeah, you shouldn’t have,” Mara agreed. “You might hate this place But you should hate the Hive more. Think about that.”
If Mara had anything to say as Eden fled, she couldn’t hear her over the roar of anger in her ears. Eden pushed out the door into the hallway and didn’t stop until she reached the elevator. The only person she could think of to turn to for comfort was well outside the city by now, so she took the elevator up to the second floor and found her own dorm. Not until she was safely ensconced in her room did Eden bury her face in her pillow and scream out everything that had been bubbling up.