"I mean, what if I was looking at porn or something?"
"Were you?" I ask, the words whipping from my lips as all the tension I'd been trying to release twists tighter instead.
"Yeah, were you?" Sev echoes, but with less accusation and more interest. "What kind?"
"Iwasn't," she enunciates. "But I could've been."
She toggles to the photo folder and selects the first option she sees. A pic Eli took of her last week while she was outside playing with Ellie. I've already vetted them all. I've stripped the location data from the images and there's nothing visible in the photos that could indicate where it was taken or trace back to us.
"Is this enough, do you think?" Aurora asks as she places the cursor back in the message box.
"Yeah," I say after reading it one more time. "Don't want to sound too eager. It's perfect."
She shifts her cursor to the submission button, and Eli's hand darts out to grab hers, his face pale. "Wait, Angel."
She turns to face him, searching his eyes. His throat bobs and his lips part like he might say something, but the words get stuck in his throat.
"Let me help you," Aurora murmurs softly. "I can do this.Wecan do this."
His grip on her hand loosens and then slides off. He rises to wash his hands over his face, not able to look as Aurora turns back to the screen and clicks the button.
My stomach turns when the 'message sent' screen pops up.
"I'm going to hit the head," I mutter, fighting against the spiral of potential threats that start to swirl. "Don't touch anything."
I flinch at the sick sensation in my gut and stalk to the bathroom outside the office, shutting the door behind me to do that breathing trick Elijah taught me a million years ago without an audience. They don't need to see me like this.
They need me levelheaded. Untainted by emotion. Someone has to have their shit together.
"No going back now," I tell the hollow-eyed reflection in the mirror.
11
MEET THE PARENT
AURORA
Thank you for your message,the screen says, and it's hard to swallow.
I don't show it, though. Not as I get up, and definitely not as I smile reassuringly at Elijah, trying to dispel the tension in the room—focusing on Ellie because that's easier.
Atticus is back in a few minutes and I sigh with relief as the tension in the room is cut.
"Anything?" he asks, already heading for the monitors, as if we'd get a reply in five minutes flat.
"It's been five minutes," Seven says in a dubious tone, echoing my thoughts.
"So, what now?" I ask.
"We wait," Atticus replies ominously, taking the seat at the monitor to exit the submission screen and bring up my email instead. It's all accessible to him, apparently. Logged in and ready to go. I'll need to remember that.
"I should go put my laundry in."
"I'll help," Sev says, jumping up like an eager golden retriever.
"The hell you will. Someone could see you. Stay put."
Seven glares at Atticus, and I huff a laugh at the murder in his eyes.
