"Atticus?" There's a note of panic in her voice.
"One sec."
"Atticus." It's Seven now, and his tone brooks no argument. "What does this change?"
He stops searching for more information and sits back heavily in his chair, staring at the screen filled with articles and social media posts that all somehow spawned in the night.
"Atty?" I press, my stomach in fucking knots.
He wipes a palm over his mouth, sighing. "Our timeline moved up."
50
BAITING THE TRAP
AURORA
Things happen fast.
Atticus had to cram a week's worth of planning into a single morning, and I had to leave before he was even finished.
By the time I got to my apartment, the fucking circus had already arrived, but as Ambrose promised, his buddies from the black SUVs were there, escorting me from the Uber to my front door.
Céline stayed. Someone needed to watch Ellie while I went to Charlotte.
She's been barking at the windows nonstop. So much so that when I left the apartment three hours ago, I screamed at the reporters to fuck off and that I wouldn't offer comment toanyonestill here when I got back.
My hope was that once I was no longer there to reach for comment, they'd leave the apartment, but I texted Céline through the Rover app to tell her to take Ellie to her apartment instead if they stuck around.
And I got a message ten minutes ago saying she brought Ellie and her things back to her apartment because the reporters never left.
Fuckingvultures.
"This way." Linette guides me from the elevator as I type out a thank-you to Céline. If this works out how Atticus is hoping it will, she'll need all Ellie's things anyway, since I will not be putting my Ellie girl through international travel or bringing her anywhere near Ambrose's estate. Not if I can help it.
But what I wouldn't give for an Ellie hug right now…
"Okay, in here." Linette swipes a key card over a reader on a door, and it opens to a makeshift dressing room. I step inside, fingers fumbling on my phone as the conversation inside the space dies, and I find several pairs of eyes watching me.
"Uh, hi?"
"Oh dear." A guy with spiky white hair and a makeup brush in one hand presses said brush-wielding hand to his chest. The petite woman next to him eyes me from top to bottom with something like fear.
"You have ten minutes," Linette says behind me. "Aurora, I'll be back to get you when it's time."
"Right. Smile and nod," I say, repeating what she coached me to do when I first arrived fifteen minutes ago.
"Exactly. I have to go see if Mr. De La Rosa has arrived," she says, and sweeps the door shut behind her without another word.
As soon as it's closed, the others in the room crowd me. The woman brings over a hanger that has a structured navy dress with ivory trim and antique gold buttons that screams Stepford daughter.
Andoh, look, there are ivory heels to match.
My nose wrinkles as she pushes the dress and heels into my hands and indicates a divider set up in the corner of the room. "Change quickly, we need to do something with that hair."
"What's wrong with my hair?"
I brushed it, but that's about all I had time for. The walk of shame was pretty brutal, especially since I had to act like I was coming home from the frat house. Wearing nothing but one of Atticus's T-shirts with a suit jacket of Elijah's over it. I tried not to waddle, even though I'm not sure I'll be able to walk normally for at least another day.
