Chapter 10 No Going Back Now
NO GOING BACK NOW
ATTICUS
The front door of the laundromat opens, and I know it's her because no more than three seconds later, Ellie is clawing at the base of the office door, howling like a banshee.
Sev is quick to open it, going down into a crouch to welcome her with open arms. She knocks him onto his ass with the force of her excitement, and he croons to her as she coats his cheek and chin in saliva.
"Oh, my sweet, sweet girl, I missed you, too." He scratches her roughly under her chin—her favorite spot—and she makes little growly sounds of content. "Oh yes. Oh yes. Such a good girl."
Aurora appears in the doorway behind Ellie, and smiles down at Sev and her dog as Ellie barks as if to say, Look, Ma, they're here! Then she's running to Eli for some pats while Sev pulls Aurora into a crushing hug, holding her there tightly.
Ellie nudges my shin, and I bend to scratch the top of her head, making the hand motion to tell her to sit. Her ears perk up, eager to show me she still remembers her commands.
She sits, lays down, and gives me a quick roll. I smile, pulling her deranged rubber chicken from my pack to give to her. I forgot to make sure she had the thing when we left the house, and the way her eyes light up when she sees it, I know she was missing it.
"Sorry, Eleven," I mutter, giving her another scratch with the chicken hanging from her teeth. "There you go."
Sev passes Aurora to Eli for an embrace as I stand in the corner next to the cot I've been sleeping in all week like I'm just another piece of fucking furniture. I don't miss the way Aurora's eyes stay closed or downcast, like she's purposefully trying not to make eye contact with me.
Did she find the letter I wrote her?
Does that mean she read it? Or that she didn't?
I'm physically straining with the need to know, but a man who didn't exist wrote that note, so I can't ask her. Eli's right. She needs to be the one to come to me.
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 actually see the 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 with N/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 that asked 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 it could be seen as a violation of privacy.
"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?"
"I wasn'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. We can 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.