Page 1 of Hell Hath No Fury

1

An Unexpected Notification

Lilith

Ithasbeenalong time since I heard the annoying notification volley of a group chat message gone wild.

Since Darius and Antoinette went missing, my inclusion in group chats has been minimal. Other than the occasional message from Agatha, most people choose to leave me to my murderous shenanigans.

I don’t think much of it for the first few pings, but after about the thirtieth or fortieth, I start to consider getting up off my ass and going to get my phone on the other side of the room.

Sighing heavily and fully intending to block every last one of those fuckers, I force myself off the sofa and trudge to the table where my phone was left abandoned.

A glance at my screen confirms I’ve been added to what appears to be a new fuck-around chat. I tap on the notification, and a string of previous messages pops open like a text explosion. Rolling my eyes in annoyance, I scroll up to the firstnotification, frowning to see it’s a photo from a number not saved in my contacts.

Since the stupid notifications don’t show the image, I’m forced to open the app and take a look for myself. Because I can’t imagine what the heck could be in this picture to have everyone in such a tizzy. I swear to fuck, if it’s a shitty meme from Tony, I’m gonna stab him.

Slowly, I scroll up to the very first message, taking note of the number of times I see an all-caps message asking any variation of who, how, and why.

Then I get to that first message and almost drop my phone.

Because who is looking back at me but Antoinette. My first-born child. Presumed dead for months but who now appears to be very much alive. And smiling.

I scan back through the messages, picking out the bits and pieces of information that I find relevant. Without responding, I save the image and close the chat, immediately sending it to the two people most intent on going on a murderous hunt. Mickey, my oldest confidante and uncle, and Antonio Rossi, the man I betrayed decades ago, who just happens to be Antoinette’s father.

Lilith: Spotted downtown LA.

Mickey: Are you sure it’s her?

Antonio: Has this image been authenticated?

Lilith: Yeah, it’s been authenticated by my own eyes. Look at it.

Antonio: ...

Mickey: I get what you’re saying, Lils, but think reasonably. These days, any image can be a fake.

Lilith: I know where this photo originated, and she’s legit.

Antonio: I’m going to require a bit more information in order to allow myself to believe it.

Lilith: Camilla McDonough is the Chameleon. She’d know that face anywhere.

Antonio: Tell me where to meet you.

Lilith: Meet us in LA.

Mickey: I’ll secure transport.

Antonio: Finalizing arrangements. Will update.

I close out of the app and lock my phone, sliding it into my back pocket as I shove my feet into shoes I had just removed not even ten minutes ago.

I walk across the room, open the coat closet near the entrance, and pull out my special go bag—the one that would never make it through airport security.

By the time I make it to the airstrip, the plane is waiting, Mickey standing rather impatiently for me to board with him. He takes my bag and follows me up the stairs. Once we get situated, it only takes a few moments for us to be taxiing and then airborne.

The fuck-around group chat is still moving like wildfire, and I see that everyone is moving strategically to get better aligned to find some answers.

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