You thought you could run away to Star City and hide? I know exactly who you are, Isabella. You might have escaped Indian Hill, but I know plenty of people who would love to take a look under the hood of a clone.
When Isabella saw the note, pinned to her front door, she assumed it was from Edward. It was odd, for him to leave her a letter rather than simply texting her, but he must have had a good reason. Maybe he didn’t want to risk discussing their plan via text? That would make sense, to avoid risking someone seeing it. Maybe he was checking to see how her conversation with Jessica was going?
There was something very romantic about the fact that they might have to revert to letter writing to discuss their plan, at least until she had moved in. It was reminiscent of their game. So, when she pulled the letter from the door, and unfolded it, she was immediately disappointed. It took her two seconds to realise that this wasn’t from Edward. In fact, she knew who it was from.
It wasn’t a surprise. Given how apparently prolific this anonymous writer was, she’d figured it was only a matter of time before they targeted her. Though she’d told Jubilee this was a cruel joke, and she honestly believed it was, her heart raced when she read the typed words. They were threatening her? How dare they?
Whoever had got hold of her information must have done so from Donovan or Howard. That much was obvious. Only a few people knew about Indian Hill. 5, Donovan, Howard, and Harley. And, given that Donovan and Howard had already been targeted by this person, it made sense that they had been the ones to let slip that she was from Indian Hill. This was their fault. Someone must have heard it from them, and decided to play a game.
Her money was on Howard. She didn’t know him very well, but he clearly didn’t have much of a filter. She’d seen that when she’d first met him. He must have let slip that they were from Indian Hill, perhaps to a supposedly trusted person, and that person had taken that information and was deciding to mess with their lives.
There was no way to tell who had written the letter, because it was typed. The paper it was printed on was standard – thin, ordinary, printer paper. It could have come from anywhere. It was written in a typically villainous tone, just like the message that Jubilee had received. The writer had used a singular personal pronoun, implying that they were working alone.
“Oh my,” she murmured to herself, rereading it slowly, now that the initial panic had worn off. “You’re a busy bee, aren’t you?” She despised their word choice. Under the hood of a clone. As if she was a car, to be taken apart and examined. Her joints tingled slightly.
She walked inside, and closed the door behind her, reading the letter again. It hadn’t come with conditions. They hadn’t demanded anything of her, the way they had of Jubilee and Howard. That only further proved her point – that this was an experiment, or a game, to them. They just wanted to test Jubilee and Howard, to see if they would comply with the demands.
Isabella was almost insulted that they hadn’t told her to do anything. Did they not think she was capable? Did they think she wouldn’t do what they asked? Of course, she wouldn’t have, if they had asked her to do something. But the fact that they hadn’t even bothered seemed like an insult. All they had done was inform her that they knew who she was, and that she was a clone, and that they ‘knew people’. It was almost comical.
The threat was vague enough not to cause any fear. The letter-writer would pay for threatening her, eventually. But it was more out of principle than genuine concern or terror. How dare they threaten her with exposure? When she had done such a good job of severing herself from Kristen’s life?
As much as she didn’t want to admit it, Howard had probably been right when he’d said there were other shadowy scientific organisations who would want to capture them. But if this anonymous author was the same person who had pettily demanded that Howard flee the city, and that Jubilee break up with her boyfriend, then Isabella doubted their legitimacy. They didn’t know any big evil scientific co-operations. They were a hoaxer, and nothing more. This was the written equivalent of a schoolchild saying “I’ll tell the teacher!”
If they wanted to expose her, they would have done it. If their goal was to panic her, to scare her into doing something stupid, then Isabella was two steps ahead of them. She wasn’t scared of some anonymous writer, throwing their weight around. She was more angry at Howard, or Donovan, for being the source of the leaked information. And she would deal with that accordingly. Later. For now, she had to finish packing.
