Dawn of Eve, MJ Howson [lightweight ebook reader TXT] 📗

change the system’s name, all she had to do was ask. She said, “Cancel.”

Dawn walked back to the dining room and inspected the pieces of Eve scattered everywhere. As she stared into the doll’s single sapphire blue eye, Dawn briefly considered naming her smart system after Eve. She sighed and said, “No, that would lead to just as much trouble as using Ev–” Dawn smiled as she stopped herself. “No, I need something else. Someone else.”

The diary resting beside Eve’s remains caught Dawn’s eye. She ran her fingers over the faded leather cover. The book contained Eve’s life at camp. Dawn wondered if she should pick one of the children’s names. If so, which one? Dawn closed her eyes and thought back to the stories about Billy, Hugo, Suzie, and the others.

“Evelyn, I want to change your name,” Dawn said.

“What name would you like me to respond to?” the assistant asked.

A smile spread across Dawn’s face. She said, “Caretaker.”

“Please confirm Caretaker as my new name.”

“Caretaker.”

“Okay, I will respond to Caretaker from now on.”

Stress and angst drained from Dawn’s body. Something about linking her home to Eve’s past grounded her. She suddenly felt a strength and will that had been missing ever since Jacob threw Eve from the terrace.

Dawn spent the next hour meticulously trying to glue the pieces back together. The effort proved to be a difficult one. There was no easy way to hold the various parts together long enough to get them to stick. Furthermore, it became painfully obvious to Dawn that there were still too many missing pieces. The fragments were so small it was often impossible to know where they fit.

The upper half of Eve’s head and the doll’s left leg were the only two she’d found success securing. Her fragmented head sat on the table like an overturned coffee cup. Dawn had managed to get the assembly for the left eye attached, but had never found the other eyeball. The doll’s curly copper hair held most of the back of her head together and lay sprawled out like some bizarre hand fan. Dawn’s attempt at a bow barely clung to the filthy locks. As she stared at what little she’d accomplished, she sighed, knowing she’d done all she could.

“Can you hear me?” Dawn asked as she bit her lip. She leaned closer to the doll’s head. “Eve?” Dawn stared into Eve’s single sapphire blue eye and waited. Tears welled as the doll stayed silent. “I need to hear your voice.”

Dawn grabbed Eve’s diary and sat at one of the dining room chairs. As she flipped through the book, she said, “Maybe there’s something in here.” Dawn reread the final chapter–Eve’s last night at camp. When she reached the end, she sighed and closed the book. “I don’t understand. I . . . I thought I was the one.” She leaned closer to Eve’s head. “You chose me. That’s what Janet told me. Why won’t you speak?”

Dawn stood up. She looked at the diary and then at the remains of Eve spread across her dining room table. Dawn smiled as a spark of hope filled her heart. She said, “The shop owner! Janet will know what to do.”

The black towel beneath Eve made it somewhat easy to collect everything. The delicately glued pieces of porcelain rattled as Dawn carefully folded the towel around the doll’s remains. As she carried the towel across the room, a part of Dawn knew the chances of making Eve whole again were remote. Dawn could only hope that Janet could help her. She placed Eve’s remains in the stroller beneath the stained, filthy white cotton blanket.

Dawn didn’t bother to shower or fix her hair. She quickly changed into a pair of black jeans with a simple white turtleneck top. Dawn, being in such a rush to leave, forgot to put on a pair of socks. After getting into her outdoor gear, she grabbed the stroller and proceeded downstairs and over to the High Line entrance on 23rd Street.

The crisp air was tempered somewhat by the lack of wind. Dawn, decked out in a full-length black mink coat, made her way south along the elevated walkway. The noon sun overhead felt warm on her cheeks, helping to remove the sting of the cool air nipping at her face.

Dawn smiled as she passed others by, her face mostly obscured by her sunglasses. Optimism now replaced her sorrow from last night and this morning. The shop owner had given her the diary, unlocking so many secrets. Dawn knew Janet would be able to help her save Eve.

The walk to Zuni seemed to take forever. The stroller made the trip’s progress all the more cumbersome due to the curbs and pedestrians along the way. Eventually, Dawn made it to the West Village and to Charles Street. The trees outside Zuni were barren and dark. The wind, absent on the High Line, felt strong and gusty on the narrow street.

Dawn stopped at the top of the seven steps that descended to the store and removed her Pradas. The carved wooden Zuni sign swung from its chains above the entrance. She tucked the carriage against the nearest tree. Eve’s remains felt shaky in Dawn’s arms as she scooped up the cotton blanket. Dawn went downstairs, relieved to see the Open sign behind the doorway. She opened the door, causing the brass bell to ring.

“Hello?” Dawn called out as she entered the store. Leo, resting on the counter, glanced at her briefly before going back to sleep. “Is anyone here?”

Janet emerged from the back room, the saloon-style doors banging against their double-hinges as they swung back and forth. She spent a few moments brushing dust from her long-sleeved gray smock. The smile on her face faded when she saw the look on Dawn’s face. She asked, “Are you okay? Something’s happened. What?”

“I . . . I failed.” Dawn burst into tears as the events from last night and this morning came flooding back. “It’s Eve. Jacob killed her!”

“What?” Janet couldn’t