There was nothing there. Wren frowned and shut the door quickly, bolting it again and taking a quick final peek out the peephole. No one. She lingered confusedly for a moment, then mentally shrugged and turned to head back to the bedroom.
There, taped on the hall wall straight ahead of her at the end of the entryway, was an envelope. She stepped back, coming up hard against the door, then shrank away from it at the thud she made. She’d been so focused on rushing to the door that she hadn’t seen whether there had been envelope on the wall on her way past. It surely had not been there the night before when she went to the bedroom. She took a deep breath and walked slowly to it, peeling it carefully off the wall and folding the tape methodically over the back onto the paper. She really didn’t want to open this one.
She groaned and put the paper back in the envelope, filing it behind its partner in crime in the paper drawer, next to the necklace box. She was getting the gist of the messages; whatever was happening to her seemed to be resulting in somewhat godlike powers. And the person/being/whoever sending the messages knew more about it than she did. Her main concern was whether this individual was friendly or not. The appearance of the gun was ambiguous at best; having her name inscribed on it didn’t do much to reassure her.
There was still the possibility that she was insane. It was too soon to discount that.
Her snug, warm feeling was obliterated. She was agitated about having quit her job, the stress of the paper messages was wearing on her and apart from all that her neighbors were intruding on the edges of her mind more and more insistently. Mr. Newcomb was waking up for the day and Ms. Warren’s cat was trying to wake her up to feed him. She hadn’t even realized Ms. Warren had a cat. She didn’t know the couple living below her but they were having an early morning argument.
More thoughts and minds intruded on her awareness, blooming open outward through the building. She could feel the ability becoming stronger by the minute and it very quickly became overwhelming.
She got back in bed again and lay very still, concentrating on not feeling the emotions and urges of everyone around her. She could do it, just barely, if she kept at it.
It was going to be a long day.
Tags: Chapter Three