"What's in your hand?"

I looked up at Jon and then at the small glass vial clutched in my hand. I had almost already forgotten about it on my way here to the Reader's Den.

"Oh, it's a..." I trailed off, held up the vial with the clear liquid swishing around, and glanced over at Jon again.

"Kid, you've been doing drugs this whole time?" He propped an elbow on a dusty pile of books beside him. Then he smirked. "Without letting me in on it?"

I rolled my eyes despite the tiny smile on my lips. "I don't think your wife would appreciate your interests, mister."

I hadn't had many chances to meet Jon's wife, but she'd been the sweetest when I did get to meet her. He really loved her. Jon, I mean. They both really loved each other. Anyone could see it in their eyes whenever they talked about each other. It made me grin like a fool.

"Hey now, no one's telling my wife."

I laughed and placed the vial on the counter between us, turning it slowly around in my fingers. "I don't actually know what this is, though," I said.

He remained silent and when I looked up, he had a brow raised at me. Jon was, by any means, not an intimidating guy with his soft woollen cardigans and that slightly crooked smile of his. I mean, clearly, owning a cute little bookshop blew all sorts of intimidation away. But he still had something in his gaze, something stern, that made it a little hard to keep secrets from him.

Maybe he'd learned that from his time at the Agency.

"I stopped by the Agency before I came here," I told him. "I...I passed by one of those research cabins and uh--"

"You decided to snoop around." He finished it for me.

I licked my slightly chapped lips.

"And you stole this." He added, sliding his hand over the counter and softly nudging the vial with his index finger. "Doesn't quite sound like something you'd do."

He was right. "I didn't steal it." I corrected him. "River sent me there to fetch one of the files and I saw this sitting right there between the usual blood samples. I was like, woah this doesn't look like a blood sample, and I got curious."

Jon raised both of his brows then and nodded, gesturing for me to continue.

"There were plenty more of these little vials on that other table. It's not like anyone would notice if one's gone." I shrugged.

Jon tapped his fingers on the counter. "Well, yeah. It's probably just one of those placebos."

"Yeah," I stated a little flatly. "Probably." But placebos weren't placed neatly amongst the blood samples to be examined.

Jon narrowed his eyes. "Damn, kid. Since when did you start doubting the Agency?"

I tried not answering that one question of his. "I'm just saying. If it's a placebo, it shouldn't really matter if I drink it, right?"

That caused my sweet innocent boss to cuss out loud. "No motherfucking way are you doing that, young lady!" He swiftly took the vial from in between my fingers. "Are you crazy? It could most definitely be something hazardous."

I smiled because I already knew that. I wasn't planning on drinking it anyway. "So you'll get it checked for me?"

Jon frowned, confused.

"I know you've still got some equipment from the Agency back at your house," I told him. "Can't you do this for me? Find out what exactly is in this vial and let me know?"

"Kid." He looked unsure now. "You know I can't do that."

I gnawed on my lower lip, staring at him. I knew what I was asking him was a bloody stupid thing to do. I knew he could get into a lot of trouble just for doing this simple task--even when I was the one suddenly snooping around the Agency headquarters and bringing him stuff that we both knew was confidential. Stuff that shouldn't be taken outside of the Agency. Stuff that shouldn't be with Jon or with me. 

Why was I even doing this? I thought. Why was I doing something that Orias wouldn't approve of?

"Or not, I guess." I sighed and took the vial back from his hand, staring down at it with a small frown. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked you that."

Jon was silent for a few seconds. I was about to put it in my pocket when he huffed. "I'll do it." He said.

I looked up at him, wide-eyed. "No, you shouldn't. It's all righ--"

"Give it to me, kid." He rolled his eyes, holding out his palm. "I know you. You won't stop thinking about it until you get it checked from someone."

I looked down at the vial, contemplating.

"Look, I'd rather you not go around asking the Agency members what this is, especially Orias." He added. "You know he won't be happy if he finds out you've been snooping."

I blinked, felt my face heating up a little, and gave him the vial. "I can take a few angry lectures from Orias."

"God only knows you can." He carefully stuffed it in his cardigan pocket. "You act like you're over his stern words but anyone can see how much it really affects you when he gets all mad at you."

I tried not to frown and trained my gaze down at my sneakers. "That's not true."

Jon was now busy rifling through some mail beneath the glass counter, in one of the drawers.

"Yes, it is." He simply replied. "I can give you an example if we're letting this conversation go a little longer."

I didn't want an example.

"You used to bawl your eyes out at your parents' death anniversary when you were a kid." He told me. "You used to stay cooped up in your room. And don't say that never happened, because I saw it with my own eyes back when I used to work with the Agency."

I swallowed, awkwardly trying not to bounce on my feet.

"And then came the day when Orias told you that crying makes a hero weak." He finally looked up at me from the drawer, and I think his gaze softened a little. "You never cried for your parents after that. Or anything else, as far as I know."

Silence followed his words and we both just stared at each other.

Maybe he was right, a tiny voice spoke in my head. A voice that felt too far away.

"I don't remember any of that." I breathed out a laugh and raised my brows at one particular mail he had taken out from the drawer. "What's that?"

Jon noticed my attempt at changing the topic, and I noticed the way he shook his head at me, clearly disappointed. I mentally shrugged.

"Well, someone dropped by a mail for you right here." He slid it towards me. "Took me by surprise. Is it possible you got kicked out of your apartment and are planning to currently reside in this stupid little haven?"

I laughed, much genuinely this time. "I sometimes do wish."

Jon smiled that crooked smile and I busied myself ripping open the mail. There was a piece of paper, the size of my palm, inside.

"You know, I've been thinking, should we get a Christmas tree this year for the shop as well? Or maybe you should let Cinder Girl stop by sometime, give away free cookies." He was sorting through the stack of books now. "Maybe that'll finally attract some customers."

I hummed absentmindedly and slid the paper out. It was a picture printed on paper--all black and white. And I froze when I looked at it.

It was a picture of that boy. The ski-masked boy who'd fallen from the top of that building. The one I'd failed to save. The picture was of him on the old pavement and there was blood all around him. Dark and patchy. The boy was dead in the picture.

My eyes flickered across the picture and I almost missed the tiny huddled figure at one corner of the pavement. Cinder Girl, I realised. The huddled figure was me. Though no one could tell it was me. I looked so tiny from the angle the picture was taken.

And someone had mailed it to me.

"What?" I heard Jon speaking up. "Did you really get evicted? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Someone had taken a picture of the dead body and of the scene. Someone other than me and the Agency knew--that I had killed. The other ski-masked men. It must be them.

"Yeah. No." I swallowed the sudden lump of dread. "Just a mail from college."

And this picture was a perfect blackmail.