Read Online Taking Tiffany by MK Harkins - Free Book Online Page B

walked into one of the huts and placed my luggage in the corner. Oh, so this abode was mine. Lovely. I walked in, and the stench of the previous inhabitant was so strong, it burned the hairs inside my nose. What was that smell? I looked to my mute tour guide and, of course, got nothing. He did take a backwards step out of the putrid-smelling enclosure.
    With hands on hips, my eyes narrowed and I asked, “Really?”
    He shrugged and walked toward the main building. I kept talking even though he didn’t understand me. I needed to vent, and he would be my sounding board.
    “How can you live in such a place? Don’t you want to hurl yourself off the nearest cliff? This place is disgusting! I hate it here!”
    He stopped and turned toward me with the same if-looks-could-kill expression. He held up a hand then pointed at a sign on the door that read, “Director”.  He turned his back and walked through another door. Pig.
    I straightened my shoulders and headed toward the office. I was told by my parents that the director, Ms. Rutherford, was the quintessential Earth Mother. An Englishwoman who’d spent her life caring for the abandoned children of Romania. Looking around this dump, I knew they’d lied. Just as they lied about everything else in my entire life. Hatred filled me as I knocked on the door.
    It creaked open slowly. There wasn’t anyone here. My eyes scanned the office, which appeared clean and organized. There was an outlet so I could charge my satellite phone. Good, I’d have that, though I’d need to sneak in at night to give it an adequate charge. My eyes adjusted to the darkened room. At least one room in this disaster of an orphanage was presentable. Oh, that’s right. They probably had inspections and need this space as their “front” so they’d appear legitimate. The people who ran this place must be pure evil. Who would allow anyone to live this way? Just as the thought skittered through me, I heard a squeak nearby.
    Right below my line of sight were two big eyes, staring at me. And that’s pretty much all they were, because the rest of the child was nothing more than skin and bones.
    About three feet tall and covered in dirt stood the skinniest person I’d ever seen. I’m not talking Paris-runway-skinny. This was much worse. With long stringy hair, sunken cheekbones, and limbs that could pass as twigs, was the most heart-wrenching excuse for a child imaginable. Rage filled me as the realization struck. They starve and torture children here.
    The door on the other side of the office opened, and a smallish woman with an English accent greeted me. “Oh, you’re here! I heard Dr. Stefan was back. Welcome! I’m Dottie Rutherford.” Her smile lit up her round face.
    What the hell? I shook with rage. How dare she try to fool me.
    “What is the meaning of this?” My voice was low, but the animosity was unmistakable. I pointed to the child.
    She slowed for a moment. “I see you’ve met Mirela,” Dottie said as she eyed me, sizing me up. My anger was evident from my sweating, flushed face and shaking body. I’d never been more upset.
    “Mirela came to us yesterday. She’s new.” She turned to the little girl. “Miss Elise is looking for you,” she said, smiling at the child. She looked back at me. “Sometimes the new children tend to wander a little. She’ll get the hang of things.”
    She pressed a button on a small box on her desk. I heard a cracking sound, then, “Yes, Ms. Dottie?”
    “Hi, Elise. I have Mirela in my office. It looks like she’s checking things out.” She gave me a wink.
    I breathed in, trying to calm down. Maybe I’d overreacted. It wouldn’t be the first time.
    “I’ll be right there!” The box quieted and the static died.
    Dottie turned her warm smile back at me. “I don’t blame you for your reaction. It can be shocking when you first arrive here. I heard from Doctor Stefan you have a dead vole in your hut. That couldn’t have been a pleasant