He's not.
I shudder, recalling the haunted expressions on Seven's and Atticus's faces when they explained Elijah never came home. How they couldn't find him. And then how broken he was—physically and mentally—when he did finally return to them.
He's not.
By morning, I have myself almost fully convinced that I made up the whole thing in my head. That look on Ambrose's face could've been anything. Maybe he wasn't looking at the necklace at all. Maybe I spilled water or cava on my shirt and didn't notice.
"Okay, now open wide for me."
Numbly, I open my mouth for the bald-headed man in the blue rubber gloves. He swabs the inside of my cheek, twisting the little cotton tip against my skin until it itches.
"Good." He slips it into a protective tube and then slips that tube into a labeled bag while Linette types on her tablet next to me.
"All right, now a small hair sample," the bald man says, opening another bag. "Do I have your permission to collect it?"
I nod, an icy heat making my chest sweat even though there's no reason to be nervous.
This is all part of the plan.
Everything's fine.
"If you lift your hair there—" He points to the area at the nape of my neck. "I'll take it from underneath."
I twist to the side, lifting my hair for him. When the tiny cluster of hairs are plucked from their follicles, I flinch, knees pressing together.
"Are you finished?" Linette asks before he's even done sealing the bag.
"That's it."
"Great," she chirps, and then turns to me. "See? Told you. Quick and painless."
My knuckles strain where I have them pressed between my knees. "Yeah," I echo. "Quick and painless."
25
STANDING DOWN
ATTICUS
It's dark already when we pull into Boone, traversing the streets to get to the laundromat.
After another ten-hour drive, I'm somehow still wired, and I know without a shadow of doubt that I will not be sleeping tonight. Not a fucking chance. Not since my contact reached out to let me know that Aurora's sample came through at the testing facility this morning, and he's handling things on his end.
We don't know what happens now. No test has obviously ever come back positive, but this onewill.
Elijah glares out the passenger side window with a hollow rage that I'm not used to seeing in him. He surprised me by listening to every second of Aurora's conversation with Ambrose at dinner. I thought he'd pass off the headphones to Sev when Ambrose started talking, but he grimaced through the entire hour-and-a-half ordeal, getting more and more pale each minute until it was done.
He spent the rest of the night in the bathroom being sick and didn't want a damn thing from either of us except to leave him alone. I knew that if Aurora were there with us, she'd have been acomfort to him. I'm hoping that seeing her now, whole and safe, will set his mind at ease and bring some color back to his face.
I'd half hoped she'd already be here waiting for us, but Sev has been following her tracker from the tablet in the back seat, and we know she went straight back to the apartment to check on Ellie after the driver dropped her off. And without a car, the bus won't get her here for another ten minutes at least.
I considered letting the others handle this part—the debrief to make sure there wasn't anything she gleaned that we didn't pick up from the mic she wore—but this is my area of expertise, not theirs.
And I have to make her see me at some point. But I'll keep my distance. Give her the space she wants.
We're all silent as we unpack the gear back into the office of the laundromat, and I get things set up how they were before we left. Seven stretches out, cracking his neck and knuckles from the long drive, while Elijah only waits, seated in a chair with his elbows atop his knees while I work. I'm thorough, making sure there's nothing new or anything we missed while we were gone.
As soon as we hear her enter, Elijah has the office door open and she is pulled into his arms before she can cross the threshold.
