Chapter 7

CYNTHIA CORVILLE

Cynthia Corville's day could be going significantly better. A lot better. Far better.

Breakfast hadn't gone well and she kept getting interrupted with people asking her opinion on one thing or another or asking for her help or for her to sign something. She didn't mind, not really, but sometimes she wished for some echo of a peaceful meal, though she knew Presidents didn't get that.

And now she stood in her office gathering up a notepad, pen, and the documents of papers she had assembled the night before. Cynthia put on a mask of her own since the meeting room had limited space and many people. She exited the President's Room and walked down to the meeting rooms.

The meeting to discuss the disease and factor in new recommendations from researchers into government plans and action wasn't supposed to start for about another ten minutes, but Cynthia didn't want to be late. Early would never hurt.

She walked into the room, greeted by the now-familiar sight of the long table with chairs spaced out as much as possible and the scent of disinfectant. Except that she saw Gabriella and Delta on either side of the table. The two stared each other down, frozen and tense. Gabriella looked angry with her arms crossed over her chest and her eyes glowing with dark obsidian. Delta looked annoyed, head tilted, lip curled, and hair expertly styled messily falling into his eyes as he scoffed but held her gaze.

"What happened here?" Cynthia asked.

"Delta asked me on yet another date," Gabriella replied without turning away from Delta. Her mask matched her green dress.

"It was just an offer for a date," Delta said. He did not wear a mask.

"No, it wasn't," Gabriella quickly said.

"What was it, then?" Cynthia asked.

"Delta tried to corner me." Gabriella glared at him, and Cynthia saw her hands tremble beneath the table but she clenched them into fists. Her eyes darkened further.

"Come on," Delta grumbled. "It wasn't like that! I just wanted a date!"

"I said no, Delta. I do not want to go on a date with you, just like I have said time and time again, and you got pushy," Gabriella replied.

Delta rolled his eyes. "Sue me for asking a hot woman out on a date! What's the harm? I just wanted to do something fun tonight. You know, mess around and see where the night takes us? What's the big deal? All I did was ask." He leaned forward, forearm on the table and chin propped up on his fist. "Come on, Gabby. It's just one date. Who knows, you might even like me."

Gabriella didn't react and didn't break away from his gaze. Cynthia wasn't certain she had blinked.

Cynthia took a slow breath, calming the sizzling anger brewing within her. As much as the idea tempted her, she couldn't react with rage. She had to keep a level head. No decision could be made in anger.

Even still, she knew she had to get Delta out. He would retaliate, most certainly, but Cynthia couldn't find it within herself to care in the moment. She wanted Delta gone, and she could see through Gabriella's anger the long-standing pain and frustration Gabriella felt. Cynthia had to at least try. She didn't want to keep waiting. She couldn't keep waiting.

Cynthia turned to Delta. "Get out," she said. "Leave this building and do not return."

"What?" Delta asked, standing up out of his chair like it had caught fire.

"Get out," Cynthia repeated, pointing toward the door.

"Why?" Delta jerked back, pulling his hand from the back of the chair like he'd been burned.

"Because you have to ask me why," Cynthia started, but Gabriella interrupted.

"Because you can't take no as the complete and final answer it is. You always need some further reason beyond a no. You never listen, Delta. You do not respect me, and I doubt you do others." Anger burned in Gabriella's brown eyes.

"Someone who cannot listen to and respect another saying no does not deserve to be in office and should not be trusted with the weight of running a country," Cynthia said. She readjusted her mask when it started to bunch in her eyes.

"You hate Harold. Why haven't you kicked him out?" Delta protested.

"I might disagree with him on virtually every opinion we have on what the best Waverwell looks like, but I do not have the same distrust with him that I do you. He will listen if he hears no. Get out, Delta Bass." Cynthia pointed to the door again, stepping back so he had room to walk by.

Delta's expression darkened into a scowl. "You can't do that."

Cynthia didn't flinch. "Yes, I can. As President of Waverwell, I have the power to remove anyone from office with the proper reason to. I am removing you for you inability to take no for an answer. Gabriella is not the only one you have gotten pushy with. You tried with me before I got engaged with Charlotte."

"It can be overturned by a majority vote from the rest of the officials."

Cynthia knew that was true. "But only if it is determined there was not proper reasoning behind the removal," she added, then continued: "Leave, Delta Bass. You can leave on your own right now, or I can call for officers to escort you out, whichever you'd prefer."

Delta hesitated for a moment, before turning to send a withering glare at Gabriella, who didn't react. He stalked out the door, but before he crossed the threshold, he looked over his shoulder. "This isn't over, Mrs. President Corville."

Cynthia held back an eye roll at his mocking tone.

"Leave, Delta. You will be hearing from someone at the Waverwell government building within twenty-four hours about your official removal from your position. And no, you will not be able to keep this out of the press. It will be public knowledge, as they have a right to know."

xxxx

Cynthia waited until Delta's footsteps faded before sitting down at the head of the table and exhaling, then drawing in a gasping breath. She buried her face in her hands and tried to slow the racing beat of her heart.

"What did I just do," she whispered.

She knew she should have waited until she had an airtight case. As close to a guarantee as she could get.

Gabriella's hand on her shoulder broke Cynthia from her mind and brought her back to reality.

"I'm sorry," Cynthia said. "I shouldn't have assumed. I should've asked you. It was an impulse and I just couldn't not do anything. I'm sorry, Gabriella."

Gabriella stayed quiet long enough that Cynthia looked out from her hands.

"I'm not sorry you did that, Cynthia," Gabriella replied, shifting in her chair and adjusting the ruffles on her dress. "I'm glad he's gone, and I will help you make that permanent. Delta will almost certainly take this to court, and I will testify against him."

"I appreciate that," Cynthia murmured.

"I need to be working toward something with Delta. I need to be making sure he doesn't come back." Gabriella paused, biting her lip as she took a shaky breath. "I wish he knew how to take a no."

"I do, too. But I don't know that he ever will."

"How did he ever make it here? He added nothing."

Cynthia scoffed, shrugging her shoulders and lacing her fingers on the table. "Money, I'm sure. A few posts on Muse, probably. A parent or both calling in favors. I don't know." She turned to Gabriella. "Are you alright? Do you need anything?"

Gabriella waved a hand. "No, I'm ok."

"What's going on here?" Harold asked.

Cynthia had entirely forgotten about the meeting for the disease in her decision to remove Delta. She ran her hands over her face, fixed the ear loops of her mask, gave herself half a moment to compose herself, and then stood up and turned around.

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Harold stood in the doorway with Linda right behind him. He wore a green tweed suit that made his skin look sickly. Linda wore a pinstripe suit, black and white lines so close they blurred together. Both wore a simple surgical mask, and Linda pinched the nose wire on hers.

"Hello," Cynthia said, hoping her voice didn't sound as strained as she felt. "The meeting will not be happening. My apologies for the very late notice. We will be rescheduling for an undetermined time in the future."

Harold peered into the room. "Why? What happened? And where's Delta?"

"Delta will not be joining us again. He is being removed from Waverwell government permanently."

Linda frowned. "Why?"

Gabriella appeared at Cynthia's side. "He got pushy asking for a date yet again." Gabriella's voice was rough, grating, filled with frustration.

Harold's eyebrows raised up high. Linda looked less surprised.

"Oh," Harold said.

"Delta will not be a government official again in any capacity, so it will be us four from now on," Cynthia said.

xxxx

Cynthia left the dining room after an uneventful lunch that tasted like sand. She got the meal down, though, and she figured that's what counted— she ate.

A part of her wanted the day to be over so she could just go to bed, cuddle up with Charlotte, and wake up the next day ready to conquer. She wanted to wash her face and try to rinse off the sweat and the scattered emotions she had felt that already left her drained.

Cynthia walked through the main lobby of the Waverwell government building, talking with Seven and asking him to lend a hand with fully removing Delta from his official position.

"You removed him?" Seven echoed.

Cynthia nodded. "Yes."

"Oh, wow. I don't remember that ever being done. I mean, I knew it could be done, but... I didn't think it would ever happen."

Cynthia did, although it happened when she was a child. An official had lied about their background and when it later came to light, they had been removed. Cynthia doubted Seven had even been born then— she was over twice his age.

"It doesn't happen very often, thankfully," she replied.

They walked through the entrance to the government building, taking the long way back to Cynthia's office so Cynthia could try to calm some of the restless energy she had.

Tile covered the floor in an intricate pattern, and towering columns supported an arching ceiling two stories high. A massive glass chandelier hung in a dazzling array of twinkling sparkles. Officers dotted the lobby, and Cynthia knew more waited outside. A handful of people bustled about, many Cynthia recognized and a few she didn't.

Just as Cynthia and Seven crossed into the middle of the lobby, a figure stumbled through the main doors, head down. They staggered a few steps before tripping over their feet and slumping to the ground, limbs twisted as they fell at an awkward angle.

Several officers wearing heavy armor and holding guns flooded in after the figure, who started to try to get their arms beneath them.

Acting on instinct since something just felt off, Cynthia raised a hand and they stopped, but they still held their weapons, guns loaded and cocked though none held their finger on the trigger.

"Who are you?" Cynthia asked, trying to put her finger on why the person looked familiar.

"I ran," the person said, voice distant and wandering. Their gaze trailed across everything and nothing at the same time, dazed and blank. "I ran and I didn't stop running."

As they sat up, Cynthia got a better look at them. Curly, frizzy hair fell in tangled mats. Their T-shirt and pants stained dark bore holes and rips, and one long tear revealed the person's ribcage and a lengthy red gash. Scratches and wounds littered their pale skin, and Cynthia saw gnarled red rings around their wrists and ankles.

The person looked familiar, and Cynthia narrowed her eyes, until she drew in a sharp breath.

"Who are you?" she repeated, seeking confirmation.

The person swayed where they knelt on the ground.

More officers had arrived, wearing the same black armor, ushering everyone else out and forming a ring around the perimeter.

Cynthia leaned into Seven. "He has likely already been notified and is on his way, but please call Larson Hotch."

Seven nodded and scurried away.

An officer approached Cynthia to bring her back, and she followed when the person didn't respond.

"Felix," the person said a moment later. "I'm Felix Fisk."

"Felix Fisk?" Cynthia echoed, pausing and turning around. She shrugged off the officer's gentle but firm hand, and they murmured a soft but firm Mrs. President when she didn't continue back to behind the line of officers.

"Yes, I am Felix Fisk," he replied.

He blinked several times as he started to crumble to the ground, but he shook his head and snapped back upright, putting out a hand to steady himself.

He looked like a walking corpse. He looked dead. And maybe because Cynthia had been clinging to hope that Felix was ok. That no one had found a body and therefore maybe, even though the odds said he was likely dead and it was a recovery rather than a rescue. Even though the Trinity had likely killed him and no one had found his body just yet. Maybe because of the hope she hung onto when she wasn't even sure she really should still have it Felix looked like a ghost.

"Prove it," an officer demanded. "Prove you are Felix Fisk."

He looked in their general direction before looking back at the ground.

"I don't have any identification," he murmured, voice hoarse and gravely. "The Trinity took everything I had on me. But they abducted me a block from the Morning Jitters." He paused. "Well, they didn't but they were there. Officers were following me but I didn't see them and I got taken before officers could step in. It was very subtle and way too fast for me to react. I was told to walk and I heard a threat against Freya and then I felt a knife on my back when I tried to stop."

An officer radioed for more backup and an ambulance, as well as for heightened patrols across Corville.

"You say the Trinity did not abduct you?"

The officer trying to pull Cynthia away attempted to do so again, and she conceded in moving back behind the lines of officers but refused to remove herself from the lobby.

"Please, Mrs. President Corville. It's for your safety. Just until we know what's going on. You're the President."

"That's Felix."

"We haven't confirmed anything yet. You're the President. Your safety must come first."

Cynthia twisted out of the officer's soft grip. She held out her hands. "Please, I assure you that's Felix Fisk. I've stared at his picture for a long time, and it's him."

The person surely named Felix drew in a ragged breath. "The Trinity did, but they did not bring me away from waiting at the crosswalk. The Eidolon did." Felix paused, before scanning the crowd and finding Cynthia. "Where is Freya? I need to see her."

"She can meet you at the hospital. Last I heard, she's with Larson Hotch and the Moonfall Precinct."

"No." Felix shook his head and tried to get to his feet. He braced his hands on the ground but only managed to get one foot beneath him before he shook and fell. "I need to see Freya. Where is my sister? Where is Freya?"

"She can meet you at the hospital," an officer said, approaching Felix and crouching by his side.

Felix panted for breath, and with every exhale he looked more and more exhausted, like it was slowly setting in as adrenaline began to wear off.

Cynthia refused to leave, despite several officers gently pressuring her to do so. She wouldn't get any work done. How could she when someone who knew so much on the Trinity, but more than that a person lay just a floor below her? She might not be able to do much, but she couldn't leave. She had to try to help in whatever way she could.

Paramedics arrived a minute later, followed by Larson and a few Moonfall Precinct officers. Azrael tailed them.

"Where is Freya?" Felix asked as Larson drew closer, attempting to move away from the paramedics who approached with all of their gear and a wheeled stretcher.

"Asa Smith is bringing her to the hospital. You can meet her there." Larson hung back. He eyed the ring of officers surrounding Felix. "And can whoever's in charge here clear at least two-thirds of the officers here? This is Felix Fisk. He's not a threat. He needs medical attention, and they're probably making him nervous."

An officer stepped forward, boots heavy on the ground and expression intense. "Our priority is the President and the other Waverwell government officials."

Larson nodded. "I know, and I'm not questioning that. I'm aware the President comes first. But I am telling you that Felix is not a threat."

"You know who he is?" The officer jerked their head toward Felix.

"I do," Larson replied.

"Very well," the officer said. "I will leave some officers here until Felix is gone." They waved a hand above their head in a signal, and most of the Waverwell government officers dispersed.

Cynthia stayed off to the side to give the paramedics plenty of room to work. She also didn't know if she could stomach seeing Felix's injuries up close.

The paramedics had Felix lay down as they asked him questions and started taking his vitals.

"Stop it," he said.

"We will bring you to Freya as soon as we can," one of the paramedics replied.

"I'm fine... don't need help. I need to-." Felix paused as he caught his breath. He tried to rise up onto his elbows but fell. "I need to see Freya a-and then talk with Larson or Asa or Azrael."

"Why don't you talk with one of them while we check you out?" one of the paramedics offered, clearly looking for a way to get Felix to cooperate.

Felix grumbled a short fine.

Larson waved Azrael over.

She approached, kneeling beside Felix but far enough away that she didn't get in the way of the paramedics. She wore a long coat that scrunched up as she folded herself to the ground. She brushed a chunk of her red hair back over her shoulder and readied her notepad.

"Hello, Felix," she said. "I'm Azrael Smith, in case you don't remember me."

"Where is Freya? I want to see her."

Cynthia turned away for a moment when she caught a glimpse of a bruise that covered most of Felix's stomach.

"Asa is bringing her to the hospital. You can see Freya there."

Felix didn't reply but tried to crane his neck to look at Azrael, though the paramedics told him to please not move.

"The... Trinity got me," he said a moment later.

"How?" Azrael asked.

Cynthia flinched when Larson placed a hand on her shoulder and guided her to one of the decorative benches along the walls of the lobby. No one really ever used them, but she did now and was grateful they were there.

"Since I know you won't be leaving," Larson murmured as he walked back closer.

"I..." Felix took a deep breath. "The crosswalk before Morning Jitters. The Eidolon threatened Freya. Made me... walk away and put a knife to my back." Felix groaned, flashing his teeth as the paramedics cleaned and bandaged up a wound on his leg. He tried to move away but they held him still.

"The Eidolon?"

Cynthia hadn't caught it before Azrael echoed it, but she perked up.

"He works with them."

"The Eidolon works with the Trinity?" Azrael asked.

Felix hummed an affirmation. "Yes."

"You've got about one more question," one of the paramedics said, gathering up supplies while the other readied Felix for transport.

"How did you escape?"

Felix didn't respond for several moments.

"The Trinity was-. was fighting," he said after a while. "I think the Eidolon... he was getting up to some stuff the Trinity didn't like. I think their... alliance, for lack of a-of a better word was pretty rocky. They were all bickering and stuff, and then I escaped when they weren't downstairs. Little window in the basement. Broke free and climbed... out. Don't know why they left me alone, but I didn't stop running."

"You'll have to finish this later," a paramedic said as they secured Felix onto the stretcher and fastened everything in place.

Just before the paramedics wheeled him away, though, Felix waved his hand to get Azrael's attention, although she was already looking at him.

"One more thing," he said, "the Eidolon's name is Lazarus."