𝐓𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡

𝟔𝟔 | 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐔𝐒𝐁?

Shit.

Of all the tasks so far, this one seemed the most difficult to me. And it was just a guess of sa illy 8-digit number. I realized that I didn't really know. It began to feel more distant than usual.

An annoyed ughhh flew out of me. I looked intently at the individual numbers, hoping that the right combination would appear in my head. I bit my nerves into the inside of my left cheek until it started to hurt.

I thought of something. But it would probably be very stupid.

With ultra-focus, I began to press each button. 03090505.

03. 09. and 05. 05.

Two dates changed Lucifer's life. At least I believed it.

To my surprise, it worked. A smile appeared on my lips. Did Lucifer O'Donnell really use his wedding date and date of my birth as a code from the hidden vault? It seemed silly to me because if you really hid a secret USB key there, it was an easy-to-guess combination.

But there was no flash drive inside.

Angrily, I grabbed another pile of papers and threw them on the table. What if someone else got to him? What if White got it? If I were to admit that this scenario is true, how bad would it be?

I scanned the documents on my desk with my eyes. From what I saw on them, the hairs on the back of my neck bristled.

It was a contract. The contract for my mother's hijacking. And there were only two signatures on it: the signature of Freya Lancaster, whom I met at Mina's headquarters, just before someone leveled it to the ground, and my father's name. Lucifer O'Donnell.

The information, I would probably never have learned without these papers, left me in shock. I tackled confusedly. Did Lucifer order the kidnapping of his own ex-wife? But why? What made him do that? And what was it good for?

At least that explained why the kidnapper had the key to his mother's house. Lucifer could have given it to him directly. This would avoid any guess that it was a kidnapping.

I rested my hands on the edge of the table and dug my nails into the precious wood. I didn't understand anything. I felt so confused. And angry. Perhaps all possible feelings mingled inside me. They wrestled with each other, arguing about which of them would take control of me.

Wrath won the duel. Incredible fury. Venom.

I angrily dropped the items off the table. The frame placed on it snapped and a long crack formed. Right in the middle of the photo, where I was when I was five years old, my mom and dad. Big happy family. I even remember when this photo was taken. And who photographed it?

It was my birthday. One day before I was almost killed by a maniac who broke into our house. It was before I saw the first murder and how everything went irretrievably into shit. I was really happy at the time. Nothing bothered me. I had my family with me, and that was enough for me. There were also grandma Maria and grandpa Joseph, uncle Cain with aunt Grace and her younger sister Juliet at my birthday party. I also vaguely remember a family friend who was there, but I have already pushed his name out of my memory.

I was glad that I could be in a circle of loved ones and rejoice at the chocolate cake that my mother baked only for special occasions like this one. After blowing out the candles, my father took me to sit on his lap, hugged my mother around the shoulders, and Uncle Cain took our picture. It was an unplanned moment capturing the happiness that did not exist in our lives for a long time. And it never will be.

Now a crack in the center of the photo separated Lucifer from Beatrice and divided me into two halves. I snorted. If this happiness isn't supposed to last me until the end, I don't want to do it at all.