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Her fingers hovered over the screen for a moment before they started moving.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Each tap echoing in the silence of our car ride like the ticks of a bomb about to explode.
More tears spilled from her eyes.
Fear—it was an emotion I prided myself on mastering, on bending to my will.
Yet, in those moments, fear seeped into the marrow of my bones.
Unbidden and raw.
It wasn’t the fear of physical danger; no, that was an adversary I knew well, one I could confront with steel and fury.
Bullets and bombs.
This was different.
This was the fear of the unknown, of the unseen blows fate could deal to the one person who had become my anchor in a tumultuous sea.
My mouse.
I feared for her.
I feared for our sons who needed my mouse just as much as me.
I watched her, this woman who had become the epicenter of my world, grappling with the shadows that danced in her eyes.
What could have her so sad and scared?
The thought of her in pain, in any form, was a blade twisting in my gut.
Yet, the realization that she might keep her fears, her burdens, locked away from me was a different, more insidious kind of agony.
Sighing, she gave me the phone back, her hand shaking noticeably.
Alright.
I read the words on the screen.
Kaz. . .I am not the original, and there are more personalities than Lunita.
Shock enveloped me.
More personalities?
I lifted my view back to her.
Fear painted Emily’s face as she looked at me, her eyes wide and searching. Her body trembled.
She’s not. . .the original. . .
I blinked, put my view back on the phone, and reread the message to ensure I was not mistaken.
But no matter how many times I read it, the words remained unchanged.
I put my view back on her. “Do you remember when I took you from New York?”
