S5 Episode Three: "In Too Deep"

“This is just too much…” she mumbled to herself.

Sylvia rubbed circles around her temples, a metaphorical cocktail of frustration, fear, and fatigue churning beneath her skin. 

“It's a little late for hesitations and second thoughts, Sylvia,” came the voice on the phone. 

Chamilla Leonne.

She was calling her again, demanding yet another piece of information about the vigilantes and the events surrounding them. Didn't this woman have other sources that would better suit her needs? 

“Do you have something else for me or not?” Chamilla said shortly. 

Sylvia cleared her throat and attempted to calm her nerves before replying. 

“Not much…” she said hesitantly. “They were last seen in the areas where these new creature attacks have been reported…” 

“That's hardly anything of note, Wynters,” Chamilla's voice carried the sharp edge of disappointment. 

“I need specifics: names, faces, addresses, locations where they could be vulnerable.” 

The word ‘vulnerable’ sent a sudden chill down Sylvia's spine. When did this arrangement shift from information gathering to what sounded like targeting people for harm? 

“I… don't have access to that kind of…” Sylvia began. 

“Then get access,” Chamilla said sharply. 

“You have the research facility. You have contacts in law enforcement. Use them.” 

Sylvia's hand clenched over her phone. 

“Miss Leonne, I don't think we should…” 

“What you should do is remember what our agreement was, and think about what might happen if you decide it no longer suits you.” 

The line went dead. 

Sylvia's phone dropped from her hand onto her desk with a small clatter, her hands shaking. 

Chamilla Leonne - the mayor's assistant - had seemed like such an interesting contact to have. She had revealed herself over time from being just an interesting person with interesting questions to being something else entirely. Someone who could threaten someone's life or livelihood as easily and simply as ordering coffee. 

Sylvia slumped back in her chair and looked around her apartment. What had once felt like a sanctuary now seemed like a cage, with invisible eyes constantly watching through the bars. The sweet taste of curiosity that had led her into this arrangement had curdled into the bitter flavor of consternation.

After months of operating under these pretenses, one thought crystallized with perfect clarity: she needed help. And she needed to find it before Chamilla decided she had become more liability than asset.

Sylvia pushed back from her desk, suddenly desperate for fresh air to purge the suffocating weight pressing down on her chest. The apartment was empty, her family wouldn't be back for hours. So she grabbed her keys and left without a word to anyone.

Out on the street, she began walking without any destination in mind. All she knew was that she needed out… literally and figuratively. After several blocks, a paranoid thought crept in: what if she was being monitored? Given recent events, it wasn't entirely out of the question. She glanced around, trying not to appear suspicious. Plenty of other pedestrians filled the sidewalk; it would be impossible to tell if someone was specifically following her.

She shook her head, forcing the paranoia down. The Brewer's Cafe, her usual refuge, sounded perfect right now. An iced chai with extra whipped cream might help settle her nerves. She turned at the next corner, choosing a longer route rather than doubling back completely.

Lost in her anxious thoughts, she nearly collided with another young woman coming around the corner.

"Sorry…" Sylvia mumbled, stepping aside.

"Don't worry about it," the girl replied dismissively.

Sylvia almost did a double-take at the striking red hair, but continued on her way, her mind already returning to the impossible question of how she was going to extract herself from Chamilla's web.

She arrived at the cozy cafe without incident, despite lingering concerns about being followed. After placing her order, she chose a corner booth that allowed her to observe the room while remaining relatively inconspicuous. Adam was prompt with her chai latte, even bringing it directly to her table. 

“Enjoy!” he said with a warm smile. 

He seemed more tired than usual, more haggard than when she had first started coming here. Probably from juggling classes with helping run his family’s establishment. She found herself studying him as he returned to the counter and her mind went back to the day the pair of Cerebrus had attacked the university… she had been in the library doing research when she had run into him looking for… 

…a book on Greek mythology. 

Her cup froze halfway to her lips as the memory sharpened. He’d been rather conspicuous about the whole interaction as well, almost as if he didn’t want to be seen…

“Hey! I saw you were sitting alone over here and thought you looked like you could use some company.” 

Sylvia’s head snapped up to find the red-haired girl from the street standing beside the booth, holding a coffee cup and wearing a friendly smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“I’m sorry?” Sylvia’s voice came out smaller than she intended. 

“Mind if I sit?” 

Without waiting for an answer, the girl slid into the opposite seat. 

“It’s nice meeting you, Sylvia. I’m Autumn.”

The blood drained from Sylvia’s face. 

“How did… I don’t know what…” 

“Relax,” Autumn said coolly, glancing around the room before leaning forward slightly. 

“I’m not here to make your day worse. Actually, quite the opposite.” 

Sylvia’s hands tightened around her cup. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about… I think you’re mistaken…” 

“Of course you know,” Autumn said as she took a casual sip of her coffee. 

“Your current research project has become rather… exacting… at least by the standard of who you are doing it for. You’ve been having some rather uncomfortable conversations with a certain mayor’s assistant. And those conversations have been turning more demanding lately, haven’t they?” 

Sylvia felt as if the walls of the cafe were closing in. 

“Who are you…?” 

“Someone who knows exactly the kind of people Chamilla reports to,” Autumn said, her voice just above a whisper. 

“And more importantly, I work for someone who has been dealing with those kinds of people for a very, very long time.” 

“I don’t understand…” Sylvia breathed. 

Even as she had said this, she felt a flicker of something that tasted a little bit like… hope. 

“You may be in over your head, Sylvia… way over, in fact,” Autumn began. 

“But you don’t have to drown.”

She leaned back, resuming her casual demeanor as another customer walked past their booth. 

“There are people who can help you. Powerful people who know exactly how to handle situations like yours.” 

Sylvia stared at her, trying to process what she was saying. 

“Are you saying… you can help me…?” 

“I am saying we can help you. Unfortunately, it can’t be immediate, and it won’t be simple…” Autumn clarified. 

“What do you mean…?” 

Autumn’s expression grew more serious. 

“Right now, they are under the impression that you’re going to continue to be their obedient little informant, gathering information on the vigilantes in hopes of discovering their identities. They have ideas but want you to flesh them out, clarify them, right?” 

Sylvia nodded, the feeling of being read like an open book weighing on her. 

“If you suddenly change what you are doing or act differently, that could be a disaster and not just for you or your family. It could blow an operation that’s been in motion for a long time.” 

Sylvia felt her heart sink. "So I have to keep... doing what I've been doing?"

"For now. But not forever." 

Autumn reached into her jacket and pulled out what looked like a business card, sliding it across the table. 

"This has a number on it. If things get too dangerous: if Chamilla asks for something that crosses a line you can't cross… you call that number. Otherwise, you maintain your normal routine and wait for contact."

Sylvia picked up the card with trembling fingers. It was blank except for a phone number written in neat handwriting. 

"How long?"

"I can't give you a timeline. But I can promise you this. We're not going to leave you hanging. You're going to get out of this."

Sylvia looked up at her, searching her face for any sign of deception. 

"Why should I trust you? How do I know you're not just... another layer of this nightmare?"

Autumn sat quietly for a moment, then spoke again. 

“Because if you were really part of Chamilla’s operation, you’d be in a much worse position than you are now. And because… I have been in your position before, having to suffer at the hands of manipulative and uncaring people who pretend to have your best interests in mind just for it to turn into something ugly.” 

Sylvia felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes: tears of relief, fear, and exhaustion all rolled together. 

“I don’t know how much longer I can keep doing this… What she is asking for…” 

Autumn nodded, understanding without having to ask. 

“Which is why we need to move and act carefully. If you can, keep the information vague or outdated, but also make sure not to put yourself at risk by being too obviously unhelpful.” 

Sylva nodded, clutching the card.

“And if something goes wrong?” 

“Then you call that number. Immediately. Tell the person on the other end you need a ray of sunshine.”

Autumn stood, leaving her barely touched coffee at the table. 

“I know it’s hard, but try to act as normal as you can, Sylvia. Your life, and of others, might depend on it.” 

She gave a small wave. 

“We’ll be in touch again soon.” 

With that, the red-haired girl walked away without looking back, leaving Sylvia alone with her chai and a small piece of paper that felt like both a lifeline, but at the same time like yet another chain.