Page 47 of Jenna's Protector
“That’s what we need to figure out,” Mitzy says, her fingers already flying over her keyboard. “This isn’t about hiding identities. It’s about rewriting reality.”
“This proves how big and dangerous Sentinel really is.” Carter’s hand finds mine, squeezing gently.
I bite my lower lip, trying to process it all. The men who hurt me were real; I know that with every fiber of my being. Now they’re ghosts, erased from every system. It’s terrifying but also—validating.
Only an organization as powerful and sinister as I remember would go to such lengths.
“Wehaveencountered this before.” Stitch leans forward, her fingers splaying across the table.
“You have?” I look at her, more confused than ever.
“With Citadel.” Stitch leans back and looks toward Mitzy.
“I was thinking the same thing.” Forest nods, his expression grim. “Jenna, what we’re seeing here… It’s not unprecedented. It’s time we filled you in on what we discovered during the Citadel raid.”
“What do you mean?” I search for answers.
“Not too long ago, we became aware of an organization called the Citadel,” Ethan takes over, his voice steady and professional. “They kidnapped women and auctioned them to the highest bidder, like what happened to you. The only difference is that those women weren’t trained like you were. It took us months of investigation, but we finally located their base of operations.”
Blake continues, “When we raided Citadel, we freed dozens of women, but what we found inside was disturbing, to say the least.”
“What did you find?” My stomach clenches because whatever the answer is, I won’t like it.
“We discovered surgical suites,” Skye adds, her medical expertise evident in her tone. “State-of-the-art facilities where they were altering the women’s facial features. It went beyond simple cosmetic changes—they fundamentally changed these women’s appearances.”
Stitch nods, her eyes intense. “But it wasn’t just physical changes. We found evidence of extensive digital erasure. Birth certificates, driver’s licenses, social media accounts—all wiped clean. It was as if those women never existed. Which means they’re nearly impossible to find.”
“We always suspected,” Forest says, “this was done to evade facial recognition and make it nearly impossible to identify or rescue these women in the future.”
“Unfortunately, during our extraction, Citadel collapsed,” Mitzy jumps in. “We lost a significant amount of evidence in the process.”
“Including most of the files detailing their identity erasure methods,” Stitch adds, frustration evident in her voice.
“So you think what’s happening with Jenna’s sketches is related to what you saw at Citadel?” Carter leans forward, his brow furrowed.
“It’s a similar pattern, but on a much larger scale.” Forest nods grimly. “If they are capable of erasing victims’ identities, there’s no reason to think they wouldn’t also do that for the perpetrators.”
I sit there, trying to process all this information. It’s terrifying to think of the scale of what we’re dealing with, but at the same time,it’s oddly comforting to know I’m not alone, that what happened to me isn’t isolated.
“Jenna,” Ethan says, “your account aligns with patterns we’ve seen in Sentinel’s operations. The fact we can’t find any digital trace of these men doesn’t mean they don’t exist. It means Sentinel has gone to extraordinary lengths to hide them.”
Mitzy nods, her fingers flying over her keyboard. “This level of information scrubbing is unprecedented in scale but not in concept. It fits with what we know about Sentinel’s capabilities and methods.”
“But why?” I ask, struggling to understand. “Why go to such lengths?”
“Protection,” Forest says grimly. “By erasing these men from every database, Sentinel ensures they can operate with impunity. No records mean no trail to follow.”
“So what do we do now?” I ask, looking around at the determined faces of the Guardian team.
Forest’s expression is grim but resolute. “We dig deeper. If Sentinel can erase people from existence, we must find out why and, more importantly, how to undo it. Your sketches, your memories—they’re more valuable than ever now. They might be the only record left of these men.”
But they don’t need me to do that. I breathe out, long and slow. My part in this is done. That should bring relief, but I’m still a ball of nerves.
“I need… I need a moment,” I manage to choke out my words as I stagger to my feet.
Carter jumps up beside me and glances at his watch. “Wow, I didn’t realize how late it was getting. We can wrap up and head out.”
I wave him off with a small smile, my heart clenching at the worry etched on his face. He’s torn between his desire to comfort me and his duty to see this through. The conflict plays out on his face in the way his jaw clenches and how his fingers twitch at his side. He’s reluctant to step away from the table.