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A Flare Of Sorrow (The Jaylior Series Book 3) by Elodie Colt (9)

I lunged at the woman opposite me without a second thought, but the chain prevented me from reaching her and snapped me to a stop in the middle of the room, nearly giving me a whiplash.

A pained smile played on Cassie’s face as she drew up her knees, wrapping her hands around them. She remained silent as I glared at her. Her usual shiny hair was a greasy mess, her hands dirty, one hand bandaged and leaking blood. Her skin was ghostly white, and her cheekbones and collarbone stood out sharply. Nevertheless, I couldn’t say I felt pity for her.

“I’m going to kill you,” I threatened, but she only chuckled.

“I’m already more dead than alive,” she croaked, her voice raspy like the one of a chain smoker.

“Why did you do it?” I snapped, cursing the shackle on my ankle for not allowing me to jump her and ruin her face for good.

Cassie only laughed louder, shaking her head. “Does it not surprise you that I’m here in the same cell as you? In this condition?” Now that I thought about it, it was strange. She was with the Hunters, right? So, what had she done to become their enemy so quickly? “You never were the brightest…” was all she said before the steel door swung open again.

My heart felt like it was splattering against my spine when I looked up at the figure emerging. It was… a second Cassie.

I blinked, trying to clear my mind. What had they injected me with? I must have been hallucinating.

Cassie Two—shiny hair, radiant skin, clean, no bloodstains visible—grinned at me, hands hooked in the belt loops of her baggy military pants while Cassie One only grunted in disgust.

“Well? What do you think?” Cassie Two asked, pirouetting once as if asking for my opinion on her outfit. Damn, those drugs were mind-blowing… “Aw, don’t look at me like you’re seeing a ghost. I thought you’d figured it out by now.”

I hadn’t noticed my mouth hanging open, but I couldn’t shut it, either, my head whipping from one Cassie to the other. Did she have a twin I didn’t know about? No way. One was already one too many, pun intended.

“No?” Cassie Two directed at me, giving me a derisive grin. “Excellent. My plan worked better than expected.”

Cassie Two flung her hair over her shoulders, shedding her jacket, and removed a square, transparent sticker glued to her throat. She sighed in relief, only it sounded totally different, somehow more masculine. Perplexed, I watched her hands vanish under her shirt. After a little bit of fumbling, she pulled out two nude-colored, wobbly, half-round balls that landed on the floor with a slurping sound. It couldn’t get any crazier. Had she stuffed her breasts with fake ones?

Just as I wanted to voice the question, a wave of energy made the air around her ripple, and she started to change. Her hair became a little shorter, the strands’ texture got rougher, the nose became bigger, the jaw squarer, the shoulders broader, until…

A man stood in front of me.

He took a ribbon from his wrist and bound his hair in a ponytail. I was absolutely sure I’d never seen him before.

“What, no clapping?” he mocked, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

“You… you are…” I stuttered, completely stunned.

“A Shifter, yes, and apparently the best.”

Squeezing my eyes shut, I tried to process what had just happened. The man had managed to transform into Cassie. I didn’t know much about shifting, but this should be impossible, right?

“Who are you?” I whispered, my astonishment too strong to add proper volume.

“You know who I am,” he answered, the grin still plastered on his face.

“Dorian.”

“Ten points!” he cried out, clapping as if we were on a quiz show. He enjoyed this, and it only added to my rage.

All of a sudden, everything made sense—Cassie disappearing after our night out in Hell’s Trial. She came back, but she hadn’t been the same. Everyone had noticed that something was off, but no one had expected this.

I shook my head in disbelief. “How did Dylan not notice?”

A barely audible sobbing noise came from the real Cassie, and she turned her head to the side, staring at the blank wall. It just now hit me that this Cassie had never been our enemy, and if her current condition was anything to go by, she’d had one hell of a time here.

“Ah, yes. Dylan Dwight,” Dorian drawled, pulling a wicked curved knife from under the waistband of his pants and whirling it through the air, then catching it. “It forced some improvisation on my part, especially after he told me the Tracer got suspicious. Granted, I hadn’t counted on this one to smell the difference,” he muttered more to himself. “But I convinced Dylan of Cassie being pregnant, so…”

Cassie One snorted. “You told Dylan I was pregnant? And he believed you?”

Oh God, I’d been totally clueless. Now it made sense why Dylan had bought Cassie’s lie about feeling sick before he went on his mission, and why he’d been so adamant about Cassie not being the mole—technically Dorian, not Cassie, but no one knew besides me.

Dorian laughed. “It was hard. He didn’t believe me at first. You should have seen his face when I told him. Hilarious.”

“That’s why Lisa said she didn’t recognize you. Your vibes were not the same,” I voiced my thoughts out loud after the puzzle pieces fit together. Now I understood why Dylan had dismissed Lisa’s and Scott’s warning without much thought. If a pregnancy would fool a Tracer’s ability, then why not a Watcher’s, too?

“Yes.” Dorian ground his teeth. “This tiny issue turned out to be real trouble. It ruined the plan I’d forged for half a year, which is why I needed to act quickly. She never left her room, and I used to stay far away from her, but she caught me that day,” he said, using the tip of the knife to wipe a greasy strand of hair from Cassie’s face. She held her ground, eyes straight ahead, but I didn’t miss her trembling fingers. What had he done to her? What had she had to endure all the time she was here?

“I wanted to dispose of her,” he carried on with annoyance in his voice, “but she must have felt me coming to her room, and when I arrived there, she was gone. I didn’t have the time to forge a plan, so I let it be. A Watcher is no match for me, least of all a blind one.”

“What about Lauren? What about the night you took her as bait to get to me? That happened after Cassie disappeared.”

“Me turning into Cassie’s double was Plan B. If Aitana had caught you that night, it would have saved me days of trouble, preparation, and time. I knew chances were low that the rest of your crew wouldn’t intervene, so I put our second plan into action before we executed the first.”

“But why Cassie? I’m sure she told you we were never BFFs. Why impersonating her if you could have copied someone close to me?” Don’t get me wrong, I was glad he hadn’t used Dylan, especially when I thought back to my Awakening, but somehow Dorian’s plan seemed too complicated for my taste.

“My options were limited.” His eyes glinted. He enjoyed me asking questions about the brilliant show he’d put on. “Taking the appearance of another person will never make you the exact double. You will always recognize a difference. So, I needed to catch a Shifter of yours. No one would question their appearance. Cassie and I are the same height and have the same hair color. It made things easier.” He trailed the tip of the knife down Cassie’s cleavage. “And I needed someone from the inside. Someone who had access to the control room, and as you only have one Shifter in your crew, she was the only option available.”

He was clever, I had to give him that. I’d noticed the slight changes in Cassie’s appearance when she came back but hadn’t questioned it further because of her ability. The perfect disguise.

I eyed the transparent film he’d discarded earlier. It must have been some hi-tech stuff to change your vocals. How else would he have been able to talk with Cassie’s voice?

“How did you know about her in the first place? How did you know how many Shifters we had?”

A mischievous smile played on his face, and I sensed I was about to hear something shocking. He stopped toying with Cassie and put the knife back into his belt. “I had help from the inside, of course.”

Another associate. Why didn’t that surprise me… “Who?” I demanded.

“Him,” Dorian said as a matter of fact, nodding his head toward the door without removing his eyes from mine. At the same time, the door opened, and for the third time that day I was certain my eyes were deceiving me.

“Phil?” The sweet boy with the tousled hair who couldn’t be older than eighteen? It was even more absurd than Cassie being a traitor.

“The one and only,” Dorian answered for him. “He’s been working for me for a long time now. It was him who caught you in the first place.”

So, this was how Dorian found me long before Jimmy and Dylan had. Phil was constantly sitting in front of the monitors. He would know about everything happening outside the walls of the compound.

“But the night of the attack… Ricky…” My voice faltered, refusing to believe that Phil had been part of this from the beginning.

“That moron,” Phil cursed. “He was a liability. If it hadn’t been for Ricky, I could have covered up that Dorian ever appeared on the compound’s radar, and the attack would have never happened.”

I nearly laughed at the absurdity. I remembered Chris telling me that Phil and Ricky got into trouble because they’d noticed the signal of a Roe too late, which was why Jimmy and Dylan followed his trace back to Joey’s bar. Phil had tried to cover it up, but Ricky must have gotten in his way.

“Don’t fret now, Phil. I had a lot of fun playing with my new weapon.”

I immediately knew which weapon he was speaking of—the one shooting the lightning balls. Phil had informed the Hunters that our crew was guarding the area. They’d wanted to catch me that night, that much I knew from what Aitana had revealed. They’d never intended to kill me, but it had been close after I’d pushed Ricky out of the way.

“So, this is how Aitana knew so much about us and my ability,” I concluded. “But why waiting that long to kidnap me? You’ve known the compound’s location for a long time and disguised yourself as Cassie for weeks. You could have—”

Dorian interrupted me. “I needed to wait for your Awakening. We know of several Naturals who didn’t survive it, and I counted on Dylan to get you through it. He did,” Dorian added with a knowing grin. I didn’t know why my Awakening was so important for Dorian’s plans, but my mind was already reeling in another direction.

I switched my dark glare to Phil. “You sent them on a mission. To get to me,” I stated, waiting for Phil’s confirmation.

“I did. Far away, so it would give us enough time to put our plan into action.”

“What happened to Dylan and the rest? Are they hurt?”

Dorian pouted his lips. “Unfortunately, only one, as far as I know. They survived the explosion,” he muttered as if annoyed.

“Explosion?” I cried out, my heart lodging in my throat.

“We blew up a tank, but only Jimmy got hurt. He’s in the hospital right now,” Phil explained.

No, no, no. This wasn’t supposed to happen. How did everything get out of control so fast?

“All right,” Dorian announced and clapped. “We’ve got work to do. I’ll come back soon. I have a few plans for you, Natural,” he said, his eyes glinting with excitement. With that, Dorian and Phil left, leaving me alone with the real Cassie.

~~~

We didn’t talk for what felt like an eternity. Cassie eyed me warily, silently watching my inner turmoil. There were thousands of questions I wanted to ask her, but I needed a few minutes to process, or I was going to die of brain overload.

Cassie sighed deeply, letting her head fall back against the wall. “I can’t believe Dylan fell for this shit,” she uttered in disappointment. “I thought he knew me better. I guess I was wrong.”

Lifting my knees to my chest, I curled up into the same position as Cassie. “You’re seeing this the wrong way. He and Jimmy were the only ones who vouched for you. Dylan never lost faith in you.”

Cassie scoffed. “Yeah, and look how well that played out.”

Could we have prevented all this if Dylan had taken my warning seriously? Probably not, but at least they wouldn’t have gone on a suicide mission.

I eyed Cassie from under my lashes. The night we went out to Hell’s Trial had been weeks ago. I quickly did the math. Cassie was here for two months now.

“What did they do to you?” I asked in a low voice. The fire in Cassie was gone, her eyes dead. I couldn’t even imagine what she’d had to endure.

Cassie lifted her head again staring at me with no expression on her face. “Everything that needed to be done for me to be cooperative. Dorian studied me for weeks—my looks, my expressions, my manners, my behavior, my voice. He spent eighteen hours a day with me to plan the perfect disguise.”

“I never thought it possible for a Shifter to transform into the other sex,” I muttered, still unable to fully grasp how Dorian had fooled us all.

“Me neither. He already knew everything there was to know about the compound and the others, thanks to Phil. Everything else—my relationship with Dylan and the others—he needed to get from me. If I didn’t talk, he would make me,” she droned while playing with the bloody bandage on her hand. I was close to asking what Dorian had done exactly, but her condition told me everything I needed to know, so I didn’t press any further.

“Do you know of their plans?” I asked after a moment of silence.

“No. Neither Dorian nor Phil ever voiced a word about it, but I guess whatever they’re planning, it doesn’t include me.”

“What do you mean?” I asked in alarm at hearing her defeated tone.

“Well, they got what they wanted, right? I’m of no use to them anymore,” Cassie concluded with a sad smile on her face.

She was right. Cassie had done her job. They wouldn’t let her go just like that. The Hunters weren’t known for showing mercy. Dorian was going to kill her. All because of me.

“I’m so sorry, Cassie. I never intended for you to—”

“I don’t need your pity,” Cassie spat, her eyes glinting with anger. “I always knew you’d ruin everything we’ve worked so hard for. You should have never come to the compound.”

I let my head fall into my hands. Her words stung, but she had a point. I’d put everyone in danger since Jimmy brought me to the compound. And Cassie would be next to pay for it.

No. I couldn’t let that happen. I needed to get us out of here.

“Do you know where we are, exactly?” I asked, causing Cassie to scoff.

“Don’t even think about escaping. This is a military bunker. There’s no way out.”

A military bunker. Reinforced concrete everywhere. Burglar- and escape-proof. It couldn’t get any better...

“What about Gabby?”

“Who?”

“The Regenerator with the blonde hair. She healed me.”

“Oh, her. Well, she never healed me. Guess I didn’t deserve it,” she muttered and smacked her lips. Why healing me, then, I wondered?

“She could help us,” I pressed further.

Cassie laughed dryly. “Yeah, right. And get us through the security systems and the dozens of guards without anyone noticing.”

I scowled at her. “You really are a pessimistic person.”

“Well, two months down here might squash anyone’s hopes.”

Yeah, probably, but giving up was no option. I’d promised Dylan. I still remembered his exact words after one of our training sessions.

“Whatever happens, never give up. Never. I need your promise on this, okay?”

His appion eyes had been so intense, I’d thought I’d drown in them. As long as my heart still beat, I’d fight—fight for Ricky, Shawna, Jenna, and everyone else who’d lost their lives because of the Hunters.

Footsteps in the hallway brought my attention back to the present.

“Gordon,” Cassie muttered, her eyes closed.

“How do you know?”

“He’s limping.”

I strained my ears and held my breath as I listened closely. Cassie was right—the footsteps were off-kilter. I hadn’t noticed before. It meant he wasn’t very fast on his feet.

He opened the door with a loud bang. “Ladies, duty’s calling,” he announced and after putting wrist manacles on Cassie, he freed us from our ankle shackles and shoved us out the door. This time we walked to the left—the part of the building I had yet to explore.

We passed another row of identical cells—again the same number of steps until we came to a corner to the left. Where control rooms had been behind glass walls in the building’s opposite wing, now there were huge tanks and pipes looming high enough for me to tilt my head back. Most tanks were labeled with Diesel emitting steam in constant puffs—the bunker’s power supply.

Another ninety-two steps, and we stopped in front of an elevator. Again, two hundred and forty-eight steps in total. The bunker was built in a U-shape, and our cell was exactly in the middle.

We entered the elevator, and Gordon pushed the button for the fourth-floor basement. A map over the panel showed me that we were currently on the third-floor basement. This confirmed my fears. The exit was above us, which meant using the elevator or an emergency staircase I had yet to find.

The elevator doors banged open, and we strolled down another corridor—the same way back we’d just come from, only one level lower. Out of the blue, a horrible smell of decay reached my nostrils, and I would have hidden my nose under my jacket if it weren’t for the restraints on my wrists.

Soon, I’d find the source of the smell to my right. A deep alcove filled with hundreds of jute bags piled high, most of them dirty and bloodstained. Horrific noises echoed through the empty space—was there a cat meowing?

“What… what is that?” I exclaimed, dreading the answer.

Gordon chuckled. “Our test subjects. Or rather, what’s left of them.”

I swallowed down bile. Cassie looked deliberately to the other side, her face eerily pale. It appeared this was no news to her. How often had she been down here already?

Test subjects… I’d once seen a documentary about the famous military bunkers in Switzerland. Temporary sepultures were part of their construction. This was one of them, only that some ‘subjects’ seemed to be still alive. I was close to asking Gordon if there were also humans buried but remained quiet. My stomach wouldn’t survive the answer.

I nearly lost track of my counting, but I was sure we’d gone the same number of steps to the next corner as on the third level.

It was only then I lifted my head to see floor-to-ceiling glass to my right again. There were dozens of people in white coats shuffling about with clipboards and pens in their hands toying with big glasses, curved tubes, long syringes, crazy-shaped jars, and several other objects I couldn’t identify. Some of them contained bubbling liquids in greens and reds, others were filled with transparent fluids letting off steam through the openings.

A gigantic lab. And whoever didn’t survive their tests was discarded in the sepulture around the corner.

This was sick.

I wasn’t afraid of death. Hadn’t been since Shawna left me. I always told myself that whatever kind of death fate had in store for me would be warranted. But not like this… I wouldn’t die down here in a bunker no one else knew about, letting my corpse rot on top of a mass grave. I’d rather get strangled by Cassie.

We crossed the entire area until reaching the left side of the U-shape where Gordon pushed us through the first door. Blinding lights made me squint my eyes, but it took me barely a second to realize where I was. A hospital wing—big enough for at least one hundred cots filling every free space.

A man in a white coat fingered with the utensils on a silver plate, and I froze as I recognized syringes, pincers, tweezers, and other wicked objects. My hands started to shake making the manacles clank against each other.

“No need to be afraid.” Dorian’s playful voice made me spin around. “We won’t hurt you. Not today,” he added with a wicked grin on his face. “We’ll just take some tests. Please sit down.” He nodded to the nearest bed. I didn’t move, but Gordon shoved me forward giving me no other option than to plop down on the cot.

Gordon opened my manacles and stepped back to stand next to Cassie, who didn’t look at me. I wondered if she’d sat on the same bed as me enduring only God knew what.

“This is Martin, one of our best Watchers. He’ll do the tests,” Dorian explained as the man in the white coat approached, removing my jacket and restraining me to the manacles on the cot—each foot and hand. It took everything not to start kicking violently. “Don’t make this difficult, Haylie, or we’ll have to begin anew, which would only waste precious time.”

“What do you mean?” I hissed, warily eyeing the cart with equipment Martin wheeled across the floor.

“I don’t want to drug you again. It would falsify the test results. The tests also won’t work if you have any injuries because of the high amount of lymph, so I need you to be in a perfectly healthy condition.” This was why Gabby had healed me. And not Cassie.

The first tests were harmless. Fingerprints and saliva and hair samples followed by an eye scan. For this one, they rolled some machine next to me and used the swinging arm to position it in front of my face. After Martin pressed a button, the machine started to give off light impulses in fast, regular intervals, reminding me of the strobe lights used in clubs. I recoiled as the harsh light burned my eyes, but Martin held me in place.

“Keep your eyes open as long as possible. The light will activate the Flare.”

I did as he asked as Martin took a seat opposite me, studying my eyes closely and occasionally taking notes. He said something to Dorian, but I could only make out snippets like ‘wavelength,’ ‘heterochromia,’ and ‘electric impulse.’

After the test was over, Martin lifted a syringe—its needle nearly as long as my hand—and this was when I started to squirm despite my restraints. Martin ignored me and shoved the needle into my forearm, making me hiss out in pain. He tapped it a few times with his fingernail to get the blood flowing, and I watched the red liquid as it rushed through the plastic tube to then fill a transparent pouch that was big enough to contain nearly half a gallon of liquid.

“What are the tests for?” I asked Dorian as we all waited for the bag to fill with my blood. “Please don’t tell me you’re trying to clone me.”

Dorian scratched his stubble as he watched the monitor Martin sat in front of. “We may have made huge progress in medical research the last few decades, but cloning never worked. No. I’ve found a, let’s say, more lucrative business, and you will be my main subject.” The way he said it, one would think I should feel flattered to be picked as Dorian’s trophy.

“And I guess the end justifies the means?” I tried to get him to continue talking, to squeeze every ounce of information out of him, but it got more and more difficult to speak with the amount of blood leaving my system. The bag was already half full.

“Oh please, spare me the moral bullshit,” he spat. “Evolution brought us to where we are now and gave us the intelligence needed to do great things, which is what I do. Everyone else is a waste of potential.”

I pumped my fist as my hand started to prickle. My head spun, and perspiration trickled from my hairline down my jaw. Gordon still towered behind Cassie, standing guard like the loyal dog he was. Cassie’s eyes were riveted on the opposite wall, her expression unreadable, her thoughts probably far away.

“All right, we’re done,” Martin announced, tying off the blood bag and removing the needle from my skin.

“Just one more test, Haylie,” Dorian informed me, but everything until now had been child’s play compared to what awaited me at last as Martin rolled a seat next to my cot, one that looked dangerously like the ones in a gynecologist’s office.

“No,” I uttered, my head already shaking.

“We just need a vaginal swab. Harmless.”

A what? They wanted me to let them poke around in there? Were they insane?

Martin opened my restraints and helped me up. I shoved him away, but the blood loss made me weak, and I tumbled to the side. Martin’s hand on my upper arm kept me from toppling over.

“No,” I repeated adamantly when he steered me toward the metal monstrosity.

“Haylie, I suggest you be cooperative,” Dorian warned.

“Only over my dead body,” I hissed.

“What about hers?” Dorian asked as if he’d expected my answer, striding over to where Cassie stood.

Cassie’s eyes narrowed to slits as she gave Dorian a hostile glare. This was the reason why they’d brought Cassie, and maybe also why she was still alive. They were using her as leverage to make me cooperative.

“I don’t care about her,” I said with as much determination as I could muster. “You surely know we never got along.”

“Then you’ve got nothing to lose.”

With a nod in Gordon’s direction, the guard grabbed Cassie’s wrist, twisting it until her bandaged fingers were raised high behind her back. He put enough pressure on them to make Cassie cry out in pain, fresh blood seeping through the fabric. Gordon drew his knife, holding it at the right angle needed to cut off her fingers.

“No!” I shouted in horror. “Wait, I’ll… I’ll do it,” I mumbled in defeat. It didn’t matter, anyway. I doubted they’d stop their tests if they disposed of Cassie.

“I thought so,” Dorian cackled in an arrogant tone, motioning for Gordon to release Cassie. She looked at me with a hint of surprise in her eyes.

I stared at the ceiling as they heaved me upon the torturous seat, and Martin started to unbuckle my jeans. “I don’t want him to watch,” I whispered with a nod to Gordon.

“Ah, don’t worry about him. He won’t look,” Dorian said nonchalantly, the answer causing Gordon to grin with a devilish twinkle. They wanted to humiliate me, playing psycho games to make me pliable. Cassie shot me a pitiful look as Martin removed my underwear before placing my feet in the stirrups, opening me up for everyone to see.

I closed my eyes, trying to recall happy moments of my life as Martin fumbled around. I let my mind wander to Shawna and my parents, to Lauren and her sweet smile, to Sarah and Chris who always cheered me up, to Dylan, and how his arms had felt around me. Warm. Safe.

Would he come for me? I could easily picture him turning the whole country upside down to find me. I only hoped I could hold on long enough.

“It’s over,” Martin announced.

“Convenient to skip the razor, huh?” Dorian commented while I jumped off the seat I’d hopefully never occupy again. Quickly, I hopped into my clothes.

“What?”

“Oh, you haven’t noticed? After the Awakening, Naturals won’t grow unnecessary hair anymore. And I’m not just talking about the legs,” he added with a nod to my crotch, a knowing grin playing on his lips.

I acted before I could think and spat him in the face, my saliva hitting his eyebrow. He didn’t even flinch, but his fist connected with my nose before I was able to react.

A sickening crunch echoed through the room, the pain doubling me over. It made my eyes water, and I held my hand over my nose, blood pouring between my fingers.

Unrelenting fingers grabbed my hair, and I was roughly yanked up. “You keep forgetting,” Dorian drawled in a dangerously low voice, “that I know about everyone who lives in your precious compound. Who do you want me to kill first, huh?” Another sharp pull, and I grunted in pain as my scalp protested, dots staining my vision. “Sarah? Lauren? Or maybe… Dylan?

Familiar shivers ran along my spine announcing the Bluster, but it never came. The blood loss made me sick, and I was forced to bend over and heave out my empty stomach.

After we were back in our cell, Gabby granted me her healing. Next, Gordon set my nose straight, mindful not to be too gentle. I was close to biting down on his hand and severing a finger or two, just like he’d threatened to do with Cassie.

“Here,” Gabby said in a soft voice, offering two granola bars. “You need sugar.”

“Would you heal Cassie, too?” I pleaded with her, nodding to Cassie’s bloody fingers.

“I’m not allowed. And I…” She paused, swallowing hard, “... can’t grow back nails.”

I choked on the caramel of my granola bar, feeling instantly sick again. I threw Cassie a look of horror, but she averted her eyes as if nothing in the world could hurt her anymore. “They… they pulled out your nails?”

Her silence answered my question. Jesus Christ, this was worse than the torture methods from medieval times. They would never let us out of here alive. Even if I made it through their tests—either they’d kill me, or they’d force me to work for them. Both were not options.

I was wrong. Patience would get me nowhere. We needed to get out of here as quickly as possible, and Gabby was our only chance.

A quick glance at the window assured me that Gordon had his back to us. I used the time Gabby kneeled in front of me to snatch the pen and notepad clipped to her coat and scribbled as fast as I could.