Accidental Surrogate

Chapter 352

Accidental Surrogate Chapter 352-Ella

I’m the last one to the conference room – baby stuff but when I come through the door I’m very surprised to see that it’s just family gathering today.

“Where is everyone?” I ask, holding Rafe close to my chest so that he peers over my shoulder. He’s a very curious baby – he likes to look around, even though he can’t see much yet. I move over to the table where Cora, Roger, Henry, and Sinclair sit, all clearly waiting for me, all with faces which are …drawn. Concerned. And turned on me.

“What,” I breathe, freezing before I can sit down. “What’s wrong? What is it?” “Sit, Ella,” Henry says, waving to the open chair between him and Sinclair.

“No,” I say, shaking my head, the word falling out of my mouth before I can even think. “No way this looks… this looks like bad news.’

And some part of me knows that I’m being ridiculous – that it won’t be good news miraculously if I don’t hear it but still. Fear stripes through me – I really, really can’t handle more bad news now, not after the few days we’ve had. And not if it, apparently, all focuses on me.

“Ella, please,” Sinclair says, looking at me with gentle eyes and pulling the empty chair out. “I promise it’s not as bad as you think.”

“Do you all know?” I ask, going rigid.

“Henry told us before you came in,” Cora replies, leaning forward towards me across the table, Roger’s hand on her back. “He just wanted us to be prepared, so that the focus could be on you when we told you.’

“Oh my god,” I whisper, slowly moving to the chair and sitting down.” Is it me?” I ask. “Did I did I do something?”

Ella – – I may have gone about this in the wrong way. I didn’t mean to frighten you. I just – it was convenient that you were last, so I told them first so that the focus could

went on the mission yesterday. Some of them, I know, would be well enough

Those who don’t know will be briefed soon. But I wanted to talk about this together, with the main parties involved.” Henry’s eyes

my lips together in a thin line. “Let’s get on with it then.

talk in some kind of pre- arranged pattern. This, contrary to what they wanted, somehow makes me more nervous, that

fuss, and Sinclair takes him from me tucking Rafe into the crook of one elbow before draping

him. “Yesterday, when

and stare at him, willing

whatever magical powder allowed him to really fire bomb us, by accident, and when he realized that he was going

ask, confused. “Like on

sighing a little at his inability to be clear. “I mean, slipped on his words. Messed up. Because he said: ‘the master will have his

contentedly curled in the crook of Sinclair’s arm. He’s gotten a hand free of his swaddle and is clenching it and opening it, apparently fascinated by

are,” Henry confirms, drawing my

master,” I say – and as I talk, I know I should just shut up and listen, but I

following along. I’m grateful for it because even though I’m not stupid, I’m panicked enough now that my mind feels like it’s in

team working all night trying to parse this phrase, trying to figure it out. And we’ve done a great deal of research, so far, on this Monastic Cult of the God of Darkness. And never, in

wide. I understand but I mean, I don’t get it. Not yet. Not in the same way that the rest of them do, apparently, judging by the worried looks on their faces as I look around the table. “What what does that

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