Patience, it seems, is something I'm going to need to develop.
Clearing my throat, I tear my attention from them and put it back where it belongs, on the new monitors I set up along the wall. I fold myself into the chair that barely supports my weight and bring up the program that clones Aurora's laptop, showing its data and location instead of its own.
"I didn't know you'd all be here," Aurora says behind me, and yeah, I fucking said we shouldn't all be coming here at the same time, but do they ever listen to me?
No.
No, they don't.
They chat a bit more while I search for the contact form on Ambrose's 'FIND DELILAH' page. Once I have it, I move out of the way, and say simply, "Ready when you are."
"What's the rush?" Eli snaps. "She just got here."
Aurora places a hand on Eli's back and I can actuallyseethe tension ease from his shoulders. Like she's a human version of quick-release Xanax.
Once again, I remember why I need to make things right with this woman.
Not only for me—because I'm a selfish bastard who can't stand the thought of never being able to have her in my hands again—but for them.
"It's fine," she tells Eli. "I'm staying at least until my laundry's done."
"The sooner we get this email sent off, the sooner his team will reply," I try to explain, but no one seems relieved to hear it. "If we do it now, there's a chance we'll get the reply before Aurora has to leave. Then we can formulate a plan."
They nod, but no one speaks.
Aurora leaves Eli and Sev, waiting for me to move out of her way so she can sit in the seat where I was.
"Atticus said it should be in your own words," Eli fills in for me as Aurora's hands hover over the keys as if they might bite her if she presses the wrong one.
Sev comes over and settles into a crouch next to her chair so he can pet Ellie while he talks to her. "Don't overthink it. Fill in that information there." He points. "And then write whatever comes to mind in the message box."
Guided by his words, she settles her hands on the keys and begins to type. She fills out the easy bits first. Her contact info, age, height, eye color, hair color, city of residence, et cetera. When she gets to the boxes that ask for data on place of birth, birth date, and her mother's name, she fills them all in withN/A.
Then it's time for the message box. It says to provide as much information as possible, so she does. Eli comes over, and the three of us read over her shoulder as she types.
Hi, my name is Aurora Bellerose. Bellerose, because that's the name of the fire station where I was left as a toddler by a woman with dark hair. I don't know when my actual birth date is since the woman left no information, save for a note thatasked for me to be called Aurora. If I had another name before then, I don't remember it. I'm not sure where I was born, either. I grew up in the foster system mostly.
When I started attending classes at ASU this fall, I overheard some people in the library talking about a post you made asking for information about your missing daughter. I don't look exactly like the generated image you provided in the post, but there is enough resemblance that I think it's possible it could be me.
"There's a spot there to include a photo." I point to the upload box above the submission button.
I sense the others tense next to me, but they'd better get comfortable with this real quick. Ambrose seeing a photo of Aurora is nothing compared to how they'll feel when he wants to meet her in person. Which will happen if we do this right.
"Is there one on here?"
"I saved a couple to your photos. They should be accessible."
Aurora hits the upload button, and her Finder window pops up. "This is everything from my laptop."
"It's cloned. This message needs to appear to have come from you. Not the IP of this computer."
"Maybe tell me you have a clone of my laptop next time?" she says in a way that is abrasive to my eardrums. But of course I was going to clone it. Obviously. We need to know if or when Ambrose replies.
I exhale and try to alter the thought. Unknot my forehead.
I guess I could've mentioned it. "Understood."
It's not a bug or a tracking device technically, but itcouldbe seen as a violation of privacy.
