The elevator descent was agonizingly slow, giving Astrid plenty of time to scan the interior. The wooden paneling glowed in the soft yellow light and thin gray carpet covered the floor; false ceiling tiles concealed the emergency hatch and in the far corner, something glinted when she moved her head to the left a little. She blinked, eyes zooming in on the object.

A camera lens stared back at her.

Despite what Lucifer had just said, her heart skipped a beat. Adrenaline was flooding her body again, but she clenched her teeth and forced herself to breathe evenly. There didn't appear to be any other cameras.

"In the corner to your left, there's a camera," she said, voice low and steady.

Lucifer barely glanced at it. "It's okay."

"Says the guy with the mask."

"Does it really bother you that much?" He was genuinely confused as if he couldn't imagine why she wouldn't want to be seen covered in blood with a body in a building she didn't belong in.

Astrid dropped her head, but the glare of the camera followed.

A shadow fell over her and she risked a peek. Mere inches away with his back to her stood Lucifer. He had to be close to six feet, almost as tall as her father, with the same broad shoulders. But that was where the similarities ended. Lucifer, a total stranger, was blocking her from the camera's view because it had clearly scared her. But the last time her father--her own flesh and blood--had done something like that... Father-daughter midnight snacks, summer painting projects, and goodnight hugs and kisses were now as much of fairytales as the stories he used to read to her before tucking her in. His whispered "I love you, sweetie," had long since faded with the vague memories of laughing and smiles.

Did they just stop loving me? Or do they really hate each other so much that they can't be happy unless they're apart?

No, that couldn't be it. There were still times where her father would tenderly embrace her mother, kissing her forehead and murmuring comfortingly in her ear; or he'd hold her, brushing her hair as she cried for reasons Astrid didn't know.

It was all so confusing, a tangle of threads covering dark secrets that she needed to know but never wanted to discover.

She closed her eyes, inhaling deeply and resting her head on Lucifer's back. Exhaustion rolled over her in waves and her legs threatened to give out.

The sudden ding of the elevator startled her, followed by the scuffling of dress shoes on smooth flooring.

Lucifer started walking, and she followed close on his heels. White marble floors overlayed with royal blue carpet paired with all-glass walls created a bright, open space that made Astrid's head ache. The woman behind the sleek white desk choked on her coffee, grappling for the phone as they crossed to the line of elevators.

A man already waited, checking his watch impatiently. He cast a look at the pair, eyes widening to an impossible size. A sheen of sweat instantly spreading across his forehead, he diverted his gaze, shifting from one foot to the other. The crystal clock above them ticked off each slow second as the maroon puddle around Lucifer's feet grew until the doors finally slid open.

The man clutched his briefcase tighter, shallow breathing loud in the silence of the elevator. Lucifer didn't even look at him as he shielded Astrid as he'd done previously.

A hoarse laugh ripped from her throat. It was funny that these people were terrified--if only they knew how petrified she was of them. But then those beautiful wings, crumpled and distorted, flashed in her head and her gut dropped.

The elevator dinged one last time as it arrived at the ground floor. Squeezing out the barely opened doors, the man made his escape.

Astrid exhaled. If only the memories of today could leave her like the blood still dripping from her palms.

If only.