Accidental Surrogate

Sinclair

As Cora sits on the bed with her sister, I meet my brother’s eyes above her head and nod towards the door. He nods as well, agreeing. He places a hand on Cora’s shoulder and gives her a little squeeze before heading to the door.

Ella turns towards me as I stand up, grabbing my phone and heading to the closet, but I speak to her mind–to–mind to let her know that everything’s fine as I quickly pull on some casual clothes. Take care of Cora, I say to Ella, trying to send warmth and support along with my words. We’re just going to go talk downstairs with the team.

Ella nods to me, with a little smile, and then when I meet Roger at the door we walk out together, closing it behind us.

As soon as the door is shut, we’re instantly in motion. “We need more information,” Roger says, striding for the stairs. “And we need a drawing of this man, if we can convince Cora to speak to a sketch artist – it could be incredibly helpful –

”

“That shouldn’t be difficult,” I agree as the two of us hurry down the stairs to my office, where a team of investigators worked through the night on the case. “I’ll have a trained sketch artist come by as soon as possible – I’m sure Cora will comply –” I pull my phone from my pocket and start looking through my contacts.

“Someone should contact Hank,” Roger murmurs, striding into the office and moving behind the, desk. “To let him know that she won’t be in to work anytime soon – we need her here –“

―

I pause, a little, in my search for someone who can contact a reliable and discreet sketch artist to look at Roger and raise an eyebrow at him. “Didn’t think you’d be showing such concern for Dr. Hank anytime soon,” I murmur.

Roger shoots me a dirty glance. “It’s strictly professional,” he murmurs, sorting through some papers on the desk and handing them off to the investigators to properly file. “And after last night, he knows something is up –”

“Does he?” I ask, looking at Roger fully now. “Hank was there last night? At Cora’s?”

”

evenly on the desk and then lifting his head to meet my eyes. Can we not?” he asks, impatient. “Can we not do this,

face as I do so. Honestly, I could use a little distraction from waiting for someone to bust into my house to steal my child, and teasing Roger about Cora seems like just the thing. But I can tell

clue we have so far is the black robes. Cora said that several times – the man was consistently dressed like one of the Goddess‘ dedicated priests, but in black robes. That has got to be a clue we can follow

grabbing a laptop and pulling it close to him, “Don’t you have someplace where you can start with that?” he asks passively, already sitting down and starting

a fraud, and that

sketch artist. “We were in touch with him yesterday in case he had come across anything useful in the past few

confirms, still

for?” I ask, working to peer over his shoulder.

archive,” Roger murmurs, still searching. “With some…rare books. On the subject of the history of shifter religion.” He shrugs and turns the computer to me so that I can see a very old, very basic website that includes a description of some

then perhaps we can contact the people here. It’s a closed–stack collection but,” he shrugs, “I’m sure you can pull some strings. Get us in to see what they’ve got.”

over the computer and scrolling through the options. Roger wants to go to a library? Now?

its kind,” he replies. “Hundreds of years of shifter religious history. If anyone’s going to have

will be them.”

and nodding, looking back to my phone to again chase down

“What?!”

artist,” I continue, looking up to meet his eyes seriously.

his defiance of my command. Roger sighs, his teeth gritted, clearly frustrated. I’m curious about this. Why does he suddenly not want to go

about them in the moment because she didn’t think they were important, or because she’s upset. If you come across a detail that matches her memory in the archive,

nodding. I work hard to keep the smirk to my face as I see how disgruntled he is

on the mission…he’s clever enough. Probably a good researcher, to get out of med school

and as I steal a glance at my brother I see that he’s glaring at me, knowing precisely

up the transport,” I say casually, pressing a contact on my phone and striding out

stairs, the baby