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EVAN'S LETTER

Author: Adeyiga Adejoke
last update Huling Na-update: 2025-12-14 23:53:21

The morning after our wedding, sunlight streaming through hotel windows, Damian and I sat at the small table with Evan's unopened envelope between us.

"We could throw it away," I suggested, not for the first time since waking. "Just refuse to engage, maintain the peace we chose, let whatever Evan's warning about be someone else's problem."

"We could," Damian agreed, his enhanced perception probably detecting my lack of genuine conviction.

"But we'd spend the rest of our lives wondering what we ignored, whether our choice to look away enabled something catastrophic."

He was right, and we both knew it. The envelope had haunted our wedding night, its presence turning celebration into anxious anticipation of whatever came next.

"Together, then," I said, reaching for the envelope.

The paper was expensive, professionally printed with return address I didn't recognize—some facility in upstate New York. I opened it carefully, extracting several pages of handwritten text.

The handwriting imme
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  • ECHOES OF THE PAST    BASELINE COURAGE

    "I'm going in alone," I announced, checking the tactical display Marcus had pulled up on his tablet. "Absolutely not," Marcus replied immediately. "You have no abilities, no protection, no way to defend yourself if this goes wrong." "Exactly," I said. "Which means I'm not a threat. Just a mother looking for her husband. Just a baseline human who Elena thinks is inadequate. Walking in powerless is the only leverage I have." "That's not leverage, that's suicide." "It's psychology," I corrected. "Elena wants to prove baseline parents can't adequately raise enhanced children. Me walking into her safehouse, alone and vulnerable, either validates her position or forces her to confront that courage exists independent of abilities." Marcus stared at me like I'd lost my mind. "You're gambling your life on whether a Consilient operative will appreciate your courage?" "I'm gambling on her being pragmatic rather than ideological. On her wanting to rebuild Consilient philosophy, not ju

  • ECHOES OF THE PAST    DAMIAN'S RESTRAINTS

    "Was it? Or is the only difference that you approved of recruitment then but oppose it now? We're not stealing children, Commander Cole. We're reclaiming them from situations where their abilities will be suppressed, misunderstood, or inadequately developed." "By baseline parents," Damian said, understanding the ideological foundation. "You think Aria can't properly raise Elara because she's no longer enhanced." "Not just your wife. Any baseline parent attempting to raise supernatural child. How can they teach control they've never experienced? Provide guidance for abilities they can't perceive? Protect children from threats they can't detect?" "Through love. Through commitment. Through partnership with enhanced support systems." "Through inadequacy disguised as determination," Elena countered. "Your daughter struggles in preschool. Becomes overwhelmed by empathic input her mother can't sense or manage. Wakes from nightmares about consciousness networks her baseline parent can't

  • ECHOES OF THE PAST    WHEN PROTECTION BECOMES PRISON

    I woke to empty bed and immediate wrong. The wrong wasn't supernatural, couldn't sense consciousness patterns or detect enhanced awareness. It was purely human intuition honed through years of surviving impossible situations: something was very, very wrong. Damian's side of the bed was cold. Not recently vacated, but hours empty. Again. A note sat on his pillow, written in his precise handwriting: "Early Guardian meeting. Didn't want to wake you. Love you." The note felt like lie. I checked my phone. No missed calls, no texts, no explanation beyond the carefully neutral note. The Guardian protection detail was still outside, their presence steady and unremarkable. Nothing to indicate crisis. But instinct screamed otherwise. I called Veena directly, not caring that it was barely 6 AM. "Aria?" She answered immediately, alert despite early hour. "Is everything okay?" "Is Damian on Guardian assignment?" I asked without preamble. Silence brief but telling. "Not that I'm aware o

  • ECHOES OF THE PAST    PLEASE LET HIM SURVIVE

    "Close," Elara said, and the certainty in her voice was chilling. "Getting closer. Like it's looking for me specifically." I wanted to reassure her it was just nightmare, just imagination. But Elara's empathic abilities had proven accurate before. If she sensed consciousness network seeking her, it probably existed. "We're keeping you very safe," I said instead. "Daddy and the Guardians are making sure nothing bad happens." "I know," Elara replied. "But the network isn't bad. It's just... different. And very, very lonely." --- That evening, Elara woke screaming. I reached her room first, finding her tangled in sheets, small body shaking with fear and empathic overwhelm. "The network!" she sobbed. "It's so loud, Mommy. So many voices all wanting, wanting, wanting...." Damian arrived seconds later, his enhanced perception engaging immediately to assess what Elara was sensing. His expression went cold in the way that meant tactical threat assessment had identified serious danger

  • ECHOES OF THE PAST    SECRETS AND LIES

    The Guardian protection detail had transformed our home into a security fortress overnight. Cameras monitored every angle, consciousness sensors tracked supernatural activity within a three-block radius, and two enhanced operatives rotated shifts in an unmarked vehicle across the street. It should have made me feel safer. Instead, it felt like admission that ordinary life had been illusion all along. "Coffee?" I offered Damian the next morning, finding him once again at the kitchen table, laptop open, absorbed in something he minimized quickly when I approached. "Thanks," he said, accepting the mug without meeting my eyes. The evasiveness was back worse than yesterday. Whatever he was working on, he'd decided I didn't need to know about it. "Guardian briefing this morning?" I asked, keeping my tone neutral. "Among other things," he replied vaguely. "Veena wants updated threat assessment. Intelligence is still coming in about Project Reclamation." "Anything I should know?" "N

  • ECHOES OF THE PAST    THE GAME HAD SHIFTED

    I turned to find another parent—a woman about my age, professionally dressed, watching Elara with smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Thank you," I replied with polite caution that was probably just baseline human paranoia. "Does she go to Sunshine Preschool?" the woman asked. "I think I've seen her there." "Sometimes," I said vaguely, not wanting to confirm routine details to stranger. "My daughter goes there too. Mia, she's the one on the slide." The woman gestured to a child who was, indeed, at Sunshine Preschool with Elara. The detail should have been reassuring. Somehow it wasn't. "Elara has such interesting energy," the woman continued. "Very perceptive for her age. Does she have special training? Music classes, maybe? Art therapy?" The questions felt wrong, too specific, too interested in capabilities rather than child herself. But without enhanced perception, I couldn't tell if my unease was justified or just stress-induced paranoia. "Just regular preschool activit

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