Page 46 of For All My Effort

“How high is your access, Eve?” Han asked, leaning forward even more like he didn’t want to miss her answer.

“There are no levels. Once you’re employed you get access to the whole database. It’s a high honor that takes years of training.”

“Someone still had to have access.”

“My guess would be that someone leaked it on purpose,” Seb said.

Eve immediately shook her head. “No way. The compound is all about protecting omegas, this broke so many protocols. What I did was already unheard of. But deliberately hurting an omega?”

“The only other option would be that your main server was hacked. But if that was true, I highly doubt the only information they took would be Hannah’s name.”

“Maybe. Or maybe the consequences of whatever else they took haven’t appeared yet.”

“Possibly.” The way Seb agreed with that single word made me believe that he didn’t actually think it was possible.

At least both Jackson and Zeke had calmed down slightly. I imagined that they were picking up the same vibe from Eve that I was—a beta raised and trained to see omegas as better than them. It was … sad really. No designation was better or worse, they were just different, required unique ways through life.

Unfortunately, Eve was a product of being raised a beta, taught all her life how wonderful and amazing it was to be an omega, and that she might even get a spark of that joy, that remarkable life, if she dedicated hers to helping them.

The difference between Eve and the OC? She actually believed that her designation was meant to help omegas. To protect us because we’re so weak, so consumed by emotions, so reliant on alphas who might overstep their boundaries. She wanted to help, to care for others. She’s fucking kind and the OC took advantage of that.

“Someone had enough skill to figure out who deleted the profile,” Han pointed out.

Eve really started to fiddle then. Interlocking her fingers, readjusting her legs so one was on top than the other, scrunching her nose and shaking her head like she couldn’t even understand herself. “Well…”

“Eve? Tell us please,” Seb said. “This is all about the safety of Hannah which we need to take very seriously. That means knowing everything.”

Eve nodded, flexing her hands over her thighs to stop fidgeting. “I was called into a meeting this morning. They started by asking about the omegas under my care, specifically the newer ones. I tried to play it off normal, showing them my notes and everything, but then they started asking why I’d deleted the account. I lied, said I didn’t. They argued that I either did it on purpose, or failed to originally create one, since the profile for Hannah didn’t exist. Either way, it was a fire-able offense.”

I did my best to comfort Eve, but since I wasn’t her omega, my perfume didn’t do much for her.

“You know, I started volunteering there when I was thirteen. In the laundry room at first, then I made my way to a part-time assistant position. I’d been with the OC for years before I even tried for a representative position.”

“Why’d you do it then?” Jackson asked. “Why risk your job by deleting Hannah’s profile? You couldn’t have been sure that your assumption about Hannah was right.”

“I think, for now, I’d prefer not to answer that. It’s personal.” None of my mates argued despite clearly wanting to. “There’s nothing more I can think of, so I should be getting home. I need to find a new job.”

It was painful watching Eve get up, making her way to the door. She was awkward and obviously upset.

“Wait.” I ran into the living room, looking around for my phone. I couldn’t remember the last place I’d had it. When Zeke came into the living room wondering what I was looking for, I told him, “my phone. I can never find the damn thing.”

“Where’s the last place you remember having it?”

The look I gave Zeke was equal parts asking him if he thought I was an idiot and telling him he was one.

“Right, sorry. Well, you spent all yesterday in the nest, but the day before Koda came over—”

“The dining room.” I did my best impersonation of a sprint considering my socks on the floor were potentially life-threatening devices. My phone was on the table, and I grabbed it before heading back to Eve who was standing self-consciously by the door still. “Here. Put your number in it so we can keep in touch.”

Eve’s eyes went wide like she was in shock. That look remained on her face even as she accepted the phone and added her number.

Then she left, and I turned back to all of my mates asking, “Now what?”

Chapter Thirteen

Despite all the new information Eve told us, there was nothing to be done. It didn’t change the fact that I still shouldn’t contact the press. If I was being honest, I had my doubts about staying quiet.

If the OC was willing to overlook all the rules I’d broken, just to keep me quiet, I was certain that meant my voice would have an effect. My mates disagreed.