Scorned.

I think the most interesting part of today's revelations are that the angrier I got, the darker the skies became outside. A collective ambush would have been better served warm, with warning, instead of under bright lights and scrutiny inside of a difficult place in which there was so much background noise it took me a full hour to piece together what has happened to the brains my boys used to have.

Oh, that's right. Caleb had them stolen.

I'm really hoping I find the ransom note soon. I'm sure I have something of value I could use to get them back. In fact, I'm positive I do, which is why I really don't get why this happened or how to fix it or really if it's just a bad dream and instead of a handful of hours of sleep, perhaps I am still in my bed and none of it happened.

I haven't actually said anything out loud for close to two hours. They have stopped asking for reactions. The phone has stopped ringing. I failed to extend dinner invitations in my shock and I don't think anyone expects me to make dinner right now except for Ruth and Henry but they don't have a clue and that's fine with me so perhaps food will materialize and if six o'clock comes and food doesn't, I will make soup for the three of us and the rest of them can go to hell find something to eat. Elsewhere even.

I sat down to work through things but it's not coming because the pulse of adrenaline is making my fingers slow and unhelpful. I'm trying to not be dramatic. Or panicky. Or passive-agressive. Shocked. All in stride. Best scenario for everyone. Stupid justifications thrown out as balm on an itching rash. What the fuck.

Bridget, everyone will be here. All the time.

It sounded so amazing. Until I remembered who would be holding their souls. What the fuck, indeed, boys. This isn't a good idea and you know it. After everything we have gone through, you're still collectively underestimating Satan's power.

And I don't know why.

I already sacrificed myself to him. I do what he asks. I'm going back to work for him. So if you're doing it to protect me, you're decades too late.

In my head I can hear Cole laughing.

It's raining now. Maybe I can toss in some thunder and lightning. If I had that kind of power right now I think I'd zap that smug fucking smile right off his face. Then I would burn him to the ground. Alive. And I'd stand there and laugh while he screamed.

What the fuck, Ben. Lochlan. All of you. Equal partners? There's nothing equal here at all, I don't care what it looks like on paper. You guys have made a huge mistake going into business with Satan.

It's really too bad that you can't figure it out. Maybe he needs to kill me instead of EVERYONE I LOVE and then you might all get a clue. He's told me it can be arranged, but then his fun will stop, and we all know how special Caleb's brand of fun is.

This is delusional. I must be asleep.