Alert

This chapter was difficult to write in so many ways.

I hope Enid's reaction comes across authentically.

Things are only getting darker from here on out.

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She wakes up to a cold bed and a ringing phone.

It's a weekend.

They always sleep in with her on the weekend.

Where were they?

Confusion and the clinging tendrils of sleep slow her thoughts and movements.

The call goes to voicemail.

Sitting up, she glances around her empty room.

Snow is falling gently outside the window, a small pile building on the ledge.

There is a muted quality to the world around her, everything dimmed and soft.

Sliding to the edge of the large bed, she grabs her phone from the side table.

There are nearly twenty text messages from Emilia.

Enid!!!!!

Did you see the news??

Oh my god

OH MY GOD

We need to meet up.

This is so much worse than we thought

Text me once you're awake!!!!

Enid's eyebrows furrow as she reads over the messages.

Dread sinks, heavy and thick in her stomach.

What was going on?

Did it have to do with the fact that her immortals had disappeared?

Suddenly, her phone buzzed again.

Emilia had sent her a link to an article from the local newspaper.

Missing college student's body found.

She inhales quickly, her pulse picking up.

There's a photo of Patrick underneath the headline, standing next to his dad with a wide grin.

Her hands tremble as she dials Emilia's phone number.

"Enid! Thank god. Have you seen?" Her voice is loud, abrasive.

Enid pulls the phone away from her ear.

"Y-yeah. I just read it. This is awful." Enid's voice is low, shaky.

"They're calling it a homicide." Emilia lowers her volume.

"Really?" Her mind is whirring, trying to make sense of it.

He's dead.

Patrick Thomas is dead.

Murdered.

It doesn't feel real.

There is a snarled knot of emotions burning in her chest as they end the phone call.

Horror. Worry. Relief. Fear.

They are a mass she cannot pull apart.

Emotions that she cannot examine individually, only as the chaotic storm that is building inside her.

She slips out of bed, pulling on a nightgown as she trails downstairs to the kitchen.

As she reaches the second floor, she hears voices coming from the direction of Theodore's office.

She can just barely make out what is being said.

Padding silently toward the shut door, Enid pauses in front of it.

"-thought you were going to take care of it. That is your job after all. You're known as the best eraser in the country. So, I'll ask again, what the hell happened?" Her eyes widen at the icy quality of Dante's accent.

Her memory pulls forward one of her conversations with Dante.

He had said, once, that he had a difficult time managing anger growing up.

His parents had sent him to multiple therapists, but it the end it was boxing that helped him find a way to control it.

To channel it.

Training with him had shown her just how strong he was.

His body like a machine, all power and force.

She can't help but be grateful that she's not the one on the other end of his fury.

But then, who is he talking to?

"L-listen, I'm sorry. I truly did everything I could. I had no way of knowing they'd pick that shipping container to open for a random security check." She recognizes Graham's voice, even with the fear laced through it.

She hears a scoff and the sound of footsteps.

For a moment, she thinks she needs to hide before the sound stops.

There is a screech, like something heavy being dragged across the floor.

She presses trembling fingers to her lips as a grunt of pain sounds.

"We don't care for your excuses. Now, is anything else at risk of discovery? What else has your subpar intelligence managed to fuck up?" Theodore's voice is low, dark.

Enid has to strain her ears to hear him.

His words only further her confusion.

"No! No. Everything else has been taken care of. I promise. If not... If anything comes from this, I'll take the fall. Just like we agreed. C'mon guys, we've been working together for over ten years." Graham's tumble of words is somewhere between a plea and a prayer.

"Oh, you'll be continuing to work for us. You have to fix this. But if this comes back to us in anyway, you will hurt. You will hurt so badly that you will beg us to die." Alexander's usually warm voice is frigid.

The musical quality entirely absent.

Enid's mouth parts in shock.

Her hand clutches at her heart, trying to keep it from beating out of her chest.

She'd never expected Alex to sound so malevolent, to say something so violent.

What was going on?

What had they done?

Never had she felt unsafe with them, never had she felt afraid.

But the way they were speaking, the things they were saying...

They sounded almost evil.

They sounded nothing at all like her immortals.

Like the men who called her sweet names and whispered compliments against her skin.

Nothing like the three men she loves.

Three.

Three.

The number echoes through her mind and she tries to understand why it seems so important.

Her thoughts are tangled, tangling.

Her chest is constricting, tightening, and she feels the anxiety burning at her throat.

Metal clangs and Graham sighs, seemingly in relief.

She barely hears it over the roaring in her ears.

"Get the hell out of here and fix this." Dante bites and she knows this is her cue to go.

For the very first time, she wonders if she is safe in this home.

Quietly and quickly, she slips down the stairs and into the kitchen.

She has a warm mug of hot chocolate gripped in her shaking hands by the time they find her.

"Angel, there you are. I'm so sorry we weren't in bed when you woke up. We had a situation we had to attend to." Alexander's voice is back to honey warm.

His amber eyes are soft, crinkled at the edges as he smiles at her.

She wonders if she had misheard them.

It feels impossible that this man with love in his eyes and his arms around her waist is the same one she had heard just a few minutes prior.

Torn between escaping his embrace and melting into him, she stays very still.

"Is everything okay?" Enid is surprised by the steadiness of her voice.

"The boy- Thomas. He's dead. All faculty members were notified this morning, classes have been canceled for next week." Theodore says, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed.

"I heard." Is all she can manage in response, her eyes on the melting sugar in her mug.

"Are you alright, little one?" He is closer now, pulling her into his arms like Alexander had.

His midnight eyes study her face and she can't hide it from him.

The confusion.

The fear.

"Enid-" Theodore is cut off as Dante and Graham enter the kitchen.

Her lips part as she studies Graham.

Not a single one of his hairs is out of place.

Her eyes trace over every inch of exposed skin she can see, and she finds no wounds, no bruises.

Maybe she had misunderstood after all.

"Hey, butterfly." The man offers her an easy grin.

Surely, he couldn't act so normal if he had truly been threatened just moments ago.

"Hi, Graham. How are you?" Enid watches him closely as he responds.

"Doing well, doing well. Just came to wrap up some business with your loving suitors here." Graham grins, his eyes light.

Enid's mind swirls, contorts.

He didn't seem to be lying.

Theodore tugs on one of her curls and she turns her face up and toward him.

"What would you like for breakfast, little one?" He asks, pressing a kiss to the bridge of her nose.

And she must have been wrong.

Must have misheard.

Must have misunderstood.

She pushes the worries away.

These men, her men, wouldn't ever truly hurt anyone.

Threaten them, maybe.

But clearly Graham wasn't afraid.

She tries to look objectively at her options.

There's a path where she tells them she overheard them, where she demands answers.

But now, she isn't quite sure what she overheard at all.

Her interaction with Graham aids her unconditional belief in them.

No. No, she won't ask.

Not now at least.

So, she sinks into him, asking for pancakes and strawberries.

She will stop agonizing for the moment.

She doesn't notice as Graham slips out of the kitchen, his fist pressed to his mouth to keep from throwing up.

His other hand already typing on his phone.

Making plans.

Fixing things.

She doesn't notice the dark red stain growing, growing on his shirt sleeve cuff.

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Poor Graham.

Lots of confusion and conflicting thoughts for our Enid.

Comments fill my heart with joy.

All my love, Sappho ⋆