The paranoia set in the minute she stumbled out of the Soulfood Shack, barely managing to murmur something to Marie about not feeling well.
It seemed like every person was watching her. Watching as she stumbled about frantic, tears threatening to spill from her eyes, and arms crossed in a lonely attempt at a comforting hug. Anyone in the crowds could be working for her father. She scurried around to avoid contact with anyone as if touching them would infect her with his sins.
She must've walked for miles, too scared to stop and ask for directions to the hotel where Lilith was staying. She hadn't felt this scared and alone since she took that first bus out of Greendale all those months ago. There was no way to know if going to her was the right thing to do, but she was out of options, and she couldn't come up with a plan with her mind the way it was.
She called the FBI headquarters in Louisiana to confirm that she was still in New Orleans, and she was. Weeks had gone by without a single word from Sabrina, but she still stayed in the Andrew Jackson Hotel. She did her best to make herself look put together in the lobby bathroom, but nothing could hide her glassy eyes.
Her fist hovered above the door, and she once again debated the wisdom of this decision before knocking. It was a loud, thunderous sound that echoed throughout the entire hallway, and it was full of anger that she hadn't been expecting. Anger at this woman who showed up and ruined the little life she had carved out for herself here.
When Lilith opened the door, she was seemingly unfazed by the malice radiating off of her, and she shoved the necklace box into her arms before marching over to sit on the edge of the bed in the middle of the room.
"I don't even want to know how much that is worth."
She turned the box over in her hands in a manner that could only be described as calm and collected that just pissed Sabrina off even more. This was all her fault, and she was calm?
Her expression was unreadable as she examined the necklace, "Where-?"
"At my work," she snapped, "Just this morning."
She set the box down on a table beside the bed and pulled up a chair to sit directly across from her, "Did you see him?"
Sabrina shook her head, "Some woman left it. I had never seen her before."
"It's a good thing I found you then."
"Found me? You led him right to me."
Lilith looked perplexed, the first real sign of emotion since she had barged into the room, "Pardon?"
She reached into her purse and pulled out the manila envelope the red-headed stranger left behind and opened it. It was full of pictures. Pictures of her.
There was one of her sitting in the waiting room at Selene's waiting to get her roots touched up and reading the latest edition of Vogue. Another one of her flipping the sign on the Soulfood Shack's door from open to closed, exhaustion spread across her features. There seemed to be an endless number of them. She was walking through the Lafeyette cemetery in one, stopping to look at a puppy in a pet shop that had jumped up to greet her in another, purchasing a tube of red lipstick at a drugstore, and she searched through every last terrifying one until she found what she wanted. It was a picture of her holding a lacey black top to her body and examining it in an unseen mirror.
"I bought that top the weekend after you showed up for a date. This is the oldest photo out of all of them," she handed it to Lilith, "I know you're an FBI agent because I called the New Orleans office before I got here, but what I don't know is why Lucifer followed you. Care to tell me?"
She was silent as she examined the photo, "You always were a clever girl."
Her anger morphed into confusion, "Always? What do you mean 'always'?"
"Lucifer was being watched by the FBI long before he was put in prison," Lilith explained, "We were looking for some way to get the information we needed to convict him of being involved in the illegal arms trade, and, seventeen years ago, we saw an opportunity. We saw you."
Sabrina was stunned. How could a two-year-old be the key to putting away a notorious weapons dealer? Thankfully, she wasn't left to wonder long.
"He appeared to be looking for a mother figure for you," she said, "And the Bureau decided that I was a perfect choice. I was given the backstopped identity of Mary Wardwell, a school teacher from Massachusetts who was visiting her sick father in Virginia."
"You had scraped your knee at this park he used to take you to, Elmore state, and I pulled bandaids out of my purse and got you to stop crying by singing that nursery rhyme about the three blind mice," she smiled, like this was a fond memory, "I mentioned I was moving to take care of my father and hadn't found a job yet. He mentioned he was looking for a nanny due to being away on business so often, and, sure enough, I passed his, rather extensive, background check and was hired just a few weeks later."
"You were my nanny?"
"At first, yes, I was," Lilith confirmed, "I taught you your alphabet, how to tie your shoes, watched an ungodly amount of My Little Pony, and made peanut butter and jelly sandwiches in the very specific ratio of two-thirds creamy peanut butter to one-third strawberry jelly."
Holy crap. This woman really was a part of her childhood. She still ate her sandwiches just like that. It was hard to picture this woman, this hardened federal agent, playing patty-cake and tucking her into bed with a kiss on the forehead. Hard, but not impossible. A woman with a softer smile, and long brown hair like the photo on her badge. Brown hair...
"Oh my god," Sabrina realized, "You're the woman from the picture."
"What picture?"
"When Lucifer showed up at my house, he showed me a picture. The two of us were outside on a picnic blanket and a woman was with us. She was trying to get me to smile at the camera. She was you, wasn't she?"
Lilith nodded, "Yes, she was."
"And you looked like a lot more than a babysitter."
"I was willing to do anything to get the intel needed."
"You pretended to be in love with him."
"I did," she confirmed, "And once he was thoroughly convinced, he let me into his secret world of guns and mortars, and what all of those business trips really were. I pretended to be horrified at first, shutting myself up in my fake father's house for days, before breaking down and running right back into his arms. I couldn't stay away."
"He bought that?"
"I sold that. He's a narcissist, Sabrina, he couldn't believe that I wasn't in love with him. It was another six months before I had everything I needed. Audio recordings, photos, videos, copies of flight manifests, and wire transfers. It was agonizing. Then one day swat raided his estate. You and I were cloud watching in the front garden, and we were ushered into a car and taken to Quantico. It should've ended there, with me flying you out to Wyoming to live with your Aunts, and Mary Wardwell dying in a car crash six years later, but it appears as though it hasn't."
"I don't remember any of that."
"Consider it a blessing, I would," she sighed, "Despite my operation being a success, I broke one of the most important rules of going undercover, I got attached. Zelda sends me a picture of you every year on your birthday," she sat up straighter, brushing aside her memories with unmatched ease, "I can get us a flight to Virginia by tonight."
It took Sabrina a minute to snap out of the daze she was in, "I'm not going anywhere with you."
"You're in danger."
"I'm in danger when I'm around you," she replied shoving her things back into her purse, "And don't you have yourself to worry about?"
"I never had any children, Sabrina," Lilith said, "Because I knew none of them could replace the one I had lost."
"You never had me. Mary Wardwell did, and last I heard she was dead. Give my regards to her family."
Sabrina slammed the door shut, and she was left standing in the hotel hallway, the fluorescent lights flickering above her.
It was a long walk to Marie's. Her slow pace and the blazing midday sun did nothing to help. She almost stopped at a convenience store for a bottle of water, but resisted, remembering the picture of her in the drugstore. So she toughed it out, walking against the endless stream of people on the sidewalk. She no longer cared who they were, or who they could be.
Lucifer wasn't going to snatch her up, force her into a car, and haul her off to God knows where. He could've done that by now if he wanted, but no. He wanted her to come to him. He wanted her willing. He wanted the 'Daddy's girl' she had been at three years old, and that was a part of her that didn't exist. Going to him would be like signing away her soul, and she liked her soul where it was, thank you very much.
Part of her expected to find him waiting there in Marie's living room when she unlocked the front door, like a scene out of some cheesy spy movie, but he wasn't there. She breathed a sigh of relief before leaning against the door.
After a few more shaky breaths, she collapsed to the floor. The relief she had been feeling receded like the tide to reveal an under layer of pain. Pain she hadn't even begun to acknowledge. Learning Edward Spellman wasn't her biological father. Discovering that she was the daughter of one of the evilest men in the country. Just wishing Diana was there to give her some answers. Running away from home and realizing just how much she missed her family.
Now, she had to leave another home and another family in order to protect them. How many people were lucky enough to find the feeling of home in two separate places? And of those people, how many were stupid enough to leave it? None of them she was sure.
Wave after wave of sobs racked through her body. She could barely breathe, taking in gulps of air when she could and immediately expelling them in another yelp of pain. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that she had to leave Marie. It wasn't fair that she had to leave Caliban. She screamed at the thought, sounding more like a wounded animal than the terrified little girl she was.
She cried until she couldn't anymore. Until her eyes ran out of tears, and her voice ran out of screams. It was like she could feel her heart shattering into a million microscopic pieces. Pieces that spilled from her chest onto the soft, brown carpet she sunk her fingers into, never to be seen again.
Her breathing eventually evened out, and she wondered how much more of this she could take. It all just seemed so impossible, especially since she couldn't even get up off of the floor. Her body was too shaky, and her mind was someplace else.
Ten seconds. She would give herself ten seconds before pushing herself up and leaving.
Ten.
She had to pack her things.
Nine.
She had to find a bus station.
Eight.
She had to make a plan.
Seven.
Texas. She would go to Texas.
Six.
Her eyes fluttered shut.
Five.
She could be a waitress again.
Four.
The shaking stopped.
Three.
She could be a maid at a motel.
Two.
She had to say goodbye.
One.
Sleep embraced her like an old friend.