Our audacity to infiltrate the orphanage during the day was met with varied reactions from the group, but ultimately, everyone committed. The urgency driven by Amelia's true nature propelled us forward. The first step was establishing cover. Krista, Philip, and Anita were the primary infiltrators.
Krista was the first to dive in, easily securing a spot as a volunteer at the orphanage. She moved with an innate grace among the children, her genuine warmth and concern instantly endearing her to them. Her father was thrilled, believing her renewed interest stemmed from a selfless desire to help abandoned children erase their painful memories. Krista found genuine joy in it too; the satisfaction of bringing smiles to those young faces was, in her words, "beyond words." It was a powerful cover, and a deep wellspring of motivation for her.
Anita, ever the opportunist, signed up as an assistant nurse. She spun a convincing tale to her father, an esteemed doctor, about wanting to experience the world outside their hospital's sterile walls. Her father, Krista's uncle, was apparently quite pleased, thinking his daughter had finally matured into someone as amazing as her mother. I could almost hear Anita's cackling laughter as she described his expression, a testament to her knack for manipulation. Her skills would be invaluable in getting close to the staff.
Philip, despite his father's initial disapproval, volunteered for errands. Dr. Caesar, a man of few words, apparently knew arguing with his son was futile. Philip simply said, "It's not like he could tie me up and lock him in my room." His ability to move freely, both inside and outside the orphanage, would provide crucial logistical support.
While they worked their way into the orphanage, Ethan and I were on "babysitting duty." It was dangerous to spend too much time with Amelia due to her violent tendencies, so we agreed we'd handle her. We visited her almost every night at the cabin. More than just looking out for her, it was vital we observed her intently, noting any signs of changes in her behavior, or physically, or emotionally. She'd been remarkably well-behaved since the incident with Krista, almost unnervingly so.
Marcus, Jeremy, and Christian formed our surveillance arm. They were out following those on our list of suspicious people—staff, nuns, volunteers at the orphanage, even high-ranking officials from both the orphanage and the school. Jeremy, with his usual boundless energy, was particularly happy with the task. "I always wanted to be a detective!" he'd declared, a wide grin on his face. We all knew the risks involved, the thin line we walked, but we were all determined to find answers.
Days turned into weeks, a blur of covert operations and hushed discussions. There wasn't any breakthrough in the case, no definitive lead that screamed "this is it." But amidst the rising tension and the calculated risks, something else deepened and strengthened: my relationship with Krista.
It was wrong. We both knew that. A pureblood prince and a human, destined for separate worlds, bound by family expectations and ancient laws. But the thrill of a forbidden love, the danger it added to every stolen glance, every whispered word, was intoxicating. We kept it secret from our friends, of course. We knew we could trust them, but the situation was too volatile. We agreed to tell them after everything had been settled, after the orphanage was exposed, after Amelia was safe.
At school, we maintained our façade, acting normally, as if nothing had changed. Krista, surprisingly, found she had great acting skills and even jokingly considered a career out of it. But at night, when Ethan wasn't at the cabin with me, Krista and I were together. When everyone in her house was asleep, she would sneak out, a shadow flitting through the darkness, and run to my car, parked just across the street from the western fence of her family property. She was beginning to get the hang of climbing walls, a skill she'd mastered out of necessity.
Sometimes, we went for midnight strolls in the mountains, far away from any possibility of getting seen. The cool, crisp air, the vast, silent expanse, provided a sanctuary for us. Other times, we went stargazing by secluded beaches, the waves a soft whisper against the shore. The night sky was always breathtakingly beautiful every time I was with her, the countless stars a silent witness to our stolen moments. So this is how it feels to be in love? The thought kept coming to me, a persistent, tender echo in my mind. I never thought I'd truly fall in love, especially not with a human. But with her, every rule seemed to bend, every expectation faded into insignificance. Those moments, I wanted them to last forever.
But forever, I knew, was a luxury we couldn't afford.