Fallen Angel

Chapter 7

 I spent the next ten minutes panicking. I felt like it was a reasonable reaction to getting a threat, and the emblem stared me down as though the image itself would ruin my life. I needed to be rational, I needed to be reasonable, but my brain kept spiraling. Everything was ruined. We weren't safe. I was going to end up back at the sterile laboratory, being poked and prodded until they decided they didn't need me anymore. My life was over.

I knew the letter was meant to instill this type of fear, and I forced myself to do breathing exercises. They wanted me to panic, they wanted me to comply, and I couldn't let them win. I could figure out how they located us and slipped into the cottage unnoticed later, right now I needed to figure out what to do with the actual letter. I had some time to think and decide, so I sat on the bed.

I brushed my hair as I thought about what I should do. My first thoughts were that I needed to tell Lucifer and Michael, although how do I do that? If they were able to sneak in and drop the letter on my bed, there was no reason why they wouldn't be able to have people watching from outside or cameras and audio recorders around the room. Everything could be compromised. I had to collect myself and tell them in a discreet way.

I slid the letter under my pillow before I looked around my room. I slipped my phone into my pocket and impulsively shoved a couple of cool rocks into my pocket before I left. I felt the weight against my side, and every time I stepped they made a light sound. I remembered them from the lake, they were duller now but I knew they were iridescent when wet.

I didn't know much about hidden cameras or anything really that had to do with technology, but I knew the lab we grew up in had dozens of tiny cameras that were hard to spot. Lucifer and Micheal had recently taken an interest in watching sci-fi movies and dramas, and sometimes I would sit down to watch them. There was one film that still haunted me to this day, and it was about a man whose entire life was being shown on television without him knowing. There was a fake town with cameras set up everywhere, and he had no idea he'd been filmed his entire life. Everyone around him was an actor, and the cameras were so tiny and the acting was so good that he never suspected it until activists started getting onto the set.

It made me think about my own life and reflect on my current situation. The tutors I talked with and the maids were paid to interact with me, but I was aware of it. This guy's entire life was fake, and at least I knew that Michael and Lucifer were my real friends. The cameras all over the town reminded me of the lab, tracking my every movement, and it was a reality that I never wanted to return to. I knew I wouldn't be able to spot a cleverly hidden camera unless someone pointed it out to me.

I went into the bathroom and dabbed at my eyes with a washcloth. I needed to calm down, and then I needed to talk to Lucifer discreetly. I didn't know who was watching, and I couldn't draw attention to ourselves with the conversation. I looked down at my phone, could I text him? That might work.

:Something important came up,: I texted him, :Can you meet me in the main kitchen?: I added, slipping out the back door and heading down the short trail that led to the main mansion.

I knew that Wyatt had security because of his relative wealth and that people would want to prey on him so I figured the security team would be more focused on the main mansion than making sure the cottage was debugged. Besides, nobody was supposed to know our official location, unless someone from the news tipped them off. I was fairly certain they agreed not to release our location, but it could have still gotten leaked. Maybe the background tipped them off?

:Why, what's up?: Lucifer asked as I stepped into the main mansion. I didn't come inside too often, and most of the times it was because I wanted a snack and there weren't any in the cottage. The private chef who cooked for Wyatt and all of the other workers was very nice, usually giving me a cookie if he made any that day.