My Students Are Perfect Assassins

People usually had one name in their entire lives. Perhaps two if they didn't keep their maiden name. But the name 'Claire Armstrong' was the fifth name that was forced upon her. She was just one of the many Asian children abandoned by their parents in a foreign land each year. She was a statistic. Her Chinese name was long forgotten when she was brought to the orphanage.

Every once in a while, parents hoping to adopt would come. Her silky straight black hair, pale white skin, big double lid eyes and pink soft lips attracted their attention. Taking her home in their mind was akin to taking a perfect doll home.

At first she was happy, leaving with a new family. But after her second adoption. She realised there was a pattern.

"...honey. I'm pregnant."

"...babe. I've been feeling unwell lately so I went to the doctors. They said that I'm pregnant."

"...sweetie. I think we're pregnant!"

Yes. Every time she was adopted in a childless marriage, shortly after they would all fall pregnant. So by her third adoption, there was a circulating rumour in town that there was an orphanage with a doll-like orphan that had the ability to fertilise infertile women. This increased adoption rates in her orphanage, particularly herself.

This was the fifth family she was adopted into. It was already the fourth month, but she could already see that they were sending her back. She long recognised the road back to the old orphanage from her window seat.

The couple in front helplessly drove onwards, drowning the awkwardness with the radio. Once they arrived. They could no longer hide it from their adopted daughter.

"Claire. I'm sorry." The pregnant mother cried.

The husband didn't express a lot of emotions, but was tender to his wife. It could be seen that he was unwilling to adopt a child at first and only did so to please his wife whom failed countless IVF treatments. But the wife was different. 'Claire' saw it. At first, it was for her infamous fame as a living fertility doll. But she genuinely loved children and really did love her adopted daughter.

"I understand." 'Claire' replied expressionlessly and left the car.

In front of the small church where the orphanage was located at the back, was an nun. She had a kind old face that made people feel relaxed and waited with her hands together like a graceful statue, but 'Claire' knew better.

Her eight year old body shivered with a cold sweat, but forced her legs to move forward.

"Let's go inside." The woman's voice guided her flighty heart.

She went inside the church with the nun, keeping her eyes down in the face of the large cross in front. The doors creaked to a close, but the echo ran through the entire church.

"Shall we get started?" A dark voice called right beside her ear.

She didn't believe in god. She didn't believe in people. She only believed in herself.

Because no one could save her from what was next to come.