Page 122 of The Last Morgan
Byron stiffened beside Lucy, blinking slowly as he processed what Barnaby had just said.
But Lillian, Sarah, and Jackson just glanced at each other, confusion flickering across their faces. Only Lucy, Corey, Damian, and Byron understood the gravity of it.
Lucy leaned forward, resting her elbows lightly on the table. Her fingers brushed the headset's cool surface, feeling the thrum beneath her skin.
"Are you sure it’s ready?" she asked quietly, her voice steady but low.
Barnaby nodded firmly. "As sure as I can be. It’s synced. It’ll respond only to you. And... I rigged it so we can all see what you see on the TV."
Silence fell again.
Lucy sat back, glancing around at the expectant faces — some filled with nervous excitement, others with cautious bewilderment.
She wasn’t ready. Not yet. But the device waited, humming quietly, whispering promises of truth in the heavy morning light.
Lucy sat perfectly still, her fingers lightly tapping against her leg as she tried to steady her breathing. Every nerve in her body felt on fire, the weight of what was about to happen crashing over her like a tidal wave.
Byron reached over and placed a warm, steady hand on her arm.
"Look," he said gently. "Eat something first. Try. And then let’s do this — together. Me, you, Corey, Barnaby, and Damien. We’ll do this as a family."
Lucy looked at him, her heart squeezing painfully at the steady reassurance in his voice. A family. Something she hadn’t believed she would ever truly have again.
She exhaled slowly, nodding.
"Fruit," she said, reaching for the bowl at the center of the table. "Fruit’s easy to digest, I suppose."
She picked a few strawberries and slices of melon, placing them carefully into a small bowl. Her hands trembled slightly as she lifted a piece to her mouth. She chewed slowly, tasting almost nothing.
Across the table, Barnaby was practically vibrating with excitement, shifting in his seat like a kid on Christmas morning.
"I’ll... I'll go into the other room and get it all set up," he blurted out, grabbing the VR headset and adapter and scurrying off with a grin.
Lucy smirked despite her current state. His energy was contagious, but her stomach still twisted with nerves.
Ten minutes later, Lucy rose to her feet, Byron steadying her with a hand on her back. Corey and Damian fell into line behind them.
The house felt colder as they walked, the long corridors stretching endlessly before them.
When they reached the front room, it felt like stepping into a ring — the final fight of a war she hadn’t even known she was part of until now.
Damian leaned out the room briefly, barking orders to the guards posted outside. Before locking the door securing their privacy.
"Nobody gets in. No one disturbs us. Understand?"
The guards nodded, faces grim, weapons at their sides.
Lucy moved to the main seat in the center of the room and sank into it, steadying herself. Her heart pounded wildly in her chest.
Barnaby was waiting for her, headset in hand, wires already connected to the television, which displayed only a soft grey static. He approached cautiously, like a scientist handling something precious and volatile.
"Okay," he said, voice trembling slightly. "When you put this on, I’m going to prick your finger. Your blood will activate the device."
Lucy scrunched her face. "I hate needles," she muttered.
Corey barked a laugh. "After Sam taught you how to fight with knives, you're worried about a little pin prick?"
Lucy shrugged, smiling faintly. "It is what it is."
