Free The Bottle Stopper by Angeline Trevena

video surveillance. Watching our every move.”
    Kerise looked at the printout in her hand. “This was the first story, when we picked up on her. Have you got the one covering her arrest?”
    “Just looking for it now.”
    “There's a picture of her with Maeve here. She must have only been about, what, four years old?”
    Tale pointed at the printer again. “Here it comes.”
    Kerise grabbed the warm printout and looked it over. “Oh yes, this is it. 'Selene Richards was removed at gunpoint for unspecified crimes against the state. Her six year old daughter, father unknown, was torn from her arms to be left in the care of her uncle, known as Jean Louis Benedict Ricard, the proprietor of an apothecary shop on The Wall. Selene's whereabouts have remained unknown. It is not known whether she is alive or dead.' Is there anything else on her?”
    “Hold on,” Tale replied. “Hmm, only one small article a couple of years later. Some woman claimed she was receiving psychic messages from Selene. But she wrote into the magazine anonymously, and never replied to the appeal for her, so nothing could ever be verified.”
    “Do you think her original letter is still around here somewhere?”
    Tale tapped her monitor. “It's not on the system. You could try looking through the boxes, or Denver might know. He's got a scarily accurate memory for exactly what and where everything is in this mess.”
    Kerise braced herself against the wall and leaned forward. “Denver!” she screamed.
    Tale winced. “Can't you go and get him? It is way too early to be yelling like a fishwife.”
    As Denver appeared in the doorway, his toothbrush protruding from his mouth, Kerise grinned smugly at Tale.
    “It worked,” she said. She turned to Denver. “Apparently, some woman once wrote to Asteria claiming to be receiving psychic messages from Selene Richards. Do you know if that letter's still around?”
    Denver chewed on his toothbrush. “Possibly. I've got a few boxes of old Asteria letters. You prepared to dig through some dusty old boxes, Kerise?”
    Kerise hopped down to the floor. “You know me, I like to know everything about a situation before I get into it.”
    “Never be surprised,” chorused Denver and Tale in unison.
    “Yes, alright,” Kerise snapped. “But when I have a knife to a guy's throat, I need to know he won't have a gun against my stomach.”
    “I'll grab those boxes.”
    “I'll give you a hand.” Kerise followed Denver into the corridor, and down to, if it were possible, an even smaller, more packed, less airy room. The boxes were stacked floor to ceiling, threatening to topple, and rid the planet of them both.
    “Do you ever throw anything away, Denver?”
    “You never know when things might come in handy.” He winked as he disappeared into the maze of boxes.
    “I still think we should just go and grab Maeve before she does something crazy.”
    “You know what we decided,” Denver's voice said. “The majority ruled we wait. See what her plan is.” He reappeared with a shoebox in his arms. He handed it to Kerise. “Keep your distance. You're just there to watch her.”
    “I know, I know. But whatever she's up to, she bought a book on poisons, so it's not going to be something good. I just want to get her out of harm's way. We can't risk losing her.”
    Denver disappeared behind the boxes again. “She hasn't shown any signs of having inherited Selene's abilities. We're really only still watching her out of curiosity. Is she that important?”
    “Abilities or not, she's the only link to the most powerful psychic we've ever known. So, yes, she's important.”

21
    When Jody Kelley walked into the apothecary shop that morning, he had a bad case of diarrhoea. He bought a large bottle of medicine—it was a common occurrence, and best to be prepared for next time—and asked to use the toilet. When he was refused, he crouched under the shop's front steps to release his bowel. He had little choice about it,