14. Lilith
Chapter fourteen
Lilith
“ J oe, what the fuck do you mean Elijah’s gone?” I scream into the phone. Just a few hours ago Leah had broken the news to me that while we were talking with the police she had gotten an email from someone choosing to stay anonymous, explaining how Elijah and Apollyon were blood relatives. The secret sender went into detail about the lengths Appolyon went through to keep their relationship out of the media. Claiming it was easier to have someone start up a new facility if they weren’t shown as some intimidating billionaire.
“I mean he’s gone Lilith, there’s nothing else I can say,” He rebuttals.
I pause for a moment while the tears begin to collect in my waterline. I trusted this company. I trusted Elijah. “Did you know?” I manage to whisper.
“Lilith you’re not making any sense,” Joe responds calmly, “did I know what?”
“Did you know The Garden killed my brother?” I grit out through my teeth. It’s a large accusation, but with no other leads, I’m willing to grasp at strings. I wouldn’t have been sent this information for nothing, right? Maybe someone on the inside wants to right their wrongs.
There’s a long pause of silence before Joe’s voice comes through the line, “What are you talking about, Lilith?”
Finally the tears break loose and a sob makes its way up my throat and out of my mouth.
“Did you know Elijah is Apollyon’s nephew?”
“Like the founder of the clinic?”
“That’s the one,” I sigh, relief flooding my system now that I know Joe wasn’t aware. At the bare minimum I can be grateful I wasn’t just a chess piece to all of them. “I’m sorry for getting angry,” I continue, “If Elijah shows up will you please have him call me?”
“Yeah sure…” There’s another long pause before he carries on, “I don’t know what’s going on but take care of yourself. Mary and I miss having you around the clinic.” I give him one more sigh before ending the call and setting my phone down next to me on my bed. Everything feels completely hopeless. I feel like I’ve been tossed into a mix of something much darker than Jesus wanted me to take part of.
I get up and begin pacing around my room, letting my thoughts wander every which way. By the time I’ve finally grown exhausted with myself, my phone says it’s a little past nine. There goes another day, wasted with nothing to show for it. I pull myself out of my room and head towards the kitchen to grab a small snack. I’ve earned a night of rest after everything that's been going on the past few weeks. A romcom and some popcorn sounds perfect right now.
As I turn on a lamp the light catches something on the counter. Sitting next to my oven is a vase full of baby's breath and roses. My heartbeat pounds through my bloodstream as I
stare at the flowers, frozen in place. My body begins to walk towards the gift and before my brain can catch up, my hands are already picking up the note that was tucked into the bouquet.
“Is it not a sin to be ungrateful? How could you give the gift away? Let’s try again.”
Anger begins to replace my fear as I reread the note. I have worked so hard for this beautiful and safe life of mine, and some twisted psycho is ripping it away from me. I begin to rip apart the petals, letting the soft material fall to the ground around me. Once the flowers have been demolished I turn and grab the vase, smashing it against the ground. The glass scatters like a family of mice being chased by a barn cat.
My heart rate finally begins to descend as I look over the wreckage. The ground sparkles back up at me as the light reflects off the shards of glass. It’s too late now to hand over the evidence I think to myself as bits of red from the flowers begin to mix with the shimmer of the glass. He was in my apartment. The police were just here and if they had done anything, had someone kept watch, had they sent out a patrol car, he could’ve been caught. The ache in my chest grows as my sobs bring me to the floor. Slivers of glass cut into my knee but the sadness engulfing me is too much for me to care about the physical pain. My world has fallen apart so quickly.
The next morning I avoid my kitchen entirely. After my meltdown, I was too exhausted to clean and found myself
tucked in bed for the rest of the night. The mess is still in there, haunting me, but I refuse to let it win today.
“Today will be better,” I whisper to myself in the bathroom mirror as I finish pulling up my hair. It feels like a lie, but if I’m going to continue on, maybe a lie is what I need right now. Pulling out my phone, I reread the message thread between Leah and I this morning.
I found someone who can help
With?
The email. I found someone who can trace it.
Who???
I’m meeting him for coffee. I'll send you the address. Be there by 11
The messages give me a splinter of hope, and I look back up to the mirror more sure this time, “Today will be better.”