Lyla rushed home, much to her mother's dismay. If she was looking for peace, she should not have gone home. On her front stoop was a regular, brown box. Racking her brain she came up short. Screwing up her face she went against her better judgment and picked up the box. 

"My eyes, please." She said as soon as she walked into the room. Anxiety had her chewing on her bottom lip. Her fingernails and bed had long been gnawed on and left bleedy. She waited by the door closing it but she didn't latch it. Fear was bubbling up her throat leaving her choking on its bitter taste. Shifting the box from one hand to the other. She fumbled in her pockets trying to locate her phone. Once she had it free of her pocket she pressed the barely raised button. 

beep. 

"Turn on prototypes A seven, four, five, dash eight, two, one and G thirteen, seven, two, dash three." Then she waited. She couldn't see the spinning wheel on her phone. 

Her implant turned on and she was able to make sure no one was lurking in the dark. Swallowing her fear and soothing her unraveled nerves. Locking her door and dumping all of her bags by her chair, she made her way to the kitchen. Lights turning on right before she approached. She sat the box on the counter and stared at it. Paranoia started weaving its course through her brain leaving behind dark thoughts involving Ian and her father. Heart pounding she paced in front of the counter as if her goal was to put a hole in the floor. 

Staring at it as if it just might jump off the counter and attack her she inched closer to the box. She took a deep breath summoning all her courage she pulled on the tape. Struggling for a few beats, she grabbed a knife out of the block on the counter. Slicing through the tape with no effort on her part.  Fumbling with the box her sweaty palms making it difficult to keep hold of the flaps.  

Looking up and, sending a quick prayer to a God she thought had long given up on her, she toppled the box over dumping all its content on the counter. Scraps of paper, pictures, newspapers articles. It only too a few seconds of staring for Lyla to gather it was all about her, and her company.  

"Gerard." She weakly muttered. 

"Yes, ma'am." Gerard's chirper voice filled the kitchen. 

"Too bad he can't understand emotions."  Not the first time Lyla wished Gerard was more advanced and capable of reading emotional cues.  "Please call Emma." She mustered a whisper. 

Her mind was too busy processing everything her eyes scanned. Someone had been following her for a long time. Emma's name was mentioned one than once. Ian's face was staring back at her, and Lyla couldn't tear her eyes away.  Her brain assaulted her with thoughts as fear sweat started dripping down her back.  

A trill sound filled her kitchen jarring her out of her Ian soaked thoughts.  Her heart was pounding almost in tune with the trill. It didn't take long before the sound stopped replaced by a shuffling noise. 

"Hello?" A groggy voice asked, echoing lightly throughout the kitchen. 

"You need to come over." Lyla's voice was barely an audible whisper but it was packed full of emotion. Enough that Emma just grunted and killed the line.  Lyla backed away from the box and its content until her legs pressed against the opposite counter. Sliding down ungracefully she fell into a pile on the floor. 

Her brain struggling to figure out why any reason anyone would send that. She had to have missed something. Wiping the tears she hadn't notice she gathered all of her strength and courage. She stood up and looked at the scattered clippings and what not that was on the counter.  A folded piece of weathered paper caught Lyla's attention, for it stood out amongst the others. 

Her courage was fleeting as she reached for the letter, hand trembling -halfway through she stops- hand just shaking mid-air. Closing her hands and taking a deep breath she throws her hand out and grabs the letter blindly.  Hurling herself away from the counter, she opened the letter and wanted to scream, kick and cry. 

Mind racing, she goes to the control center and just waits for Emma. Gerard offers her many of her comfort items but to no avail. 

Emma rushes into the house, looking like she just got out of bed -which is true- she spots the mess on the counter. 

"Where is she, Gerard?" She waited by the doorway of the kitchen. She could barely make out that some were images. 

"Ma'am, she has instructed me to have you go through the pile."  His ever pleasant tone was already on Emma's nerves.

"Of course she did," Emma muttered under her breath. Making her way to the scattered stacks. It didn't take long for her to figure out that not only did Lyla have a stalker but she was involved too. Crumbling the papers she had in her hands she stomped to the control room.  

Shoving the door with enough might that it slammed against the wall. The loud bang made Lyla jump and spin around away from the wall of computers she had been facing. 

"Good, I'm glad to see you as angry as me. Now help me watch tapes to see who drop it off." With nothing more to say, she spun back around the light tap on the keyboard made the video feed resume playing.  Her eyes zoomed in on the screen in front of her. 

"It'll be quicker than me going through all the feeds one by one," She spoke with a smile on her face. Happy to have a friend she could turn to. "Gerard please find somewhere to order out from. Also, if you could help us keep track of what feeds we watch, that'd be great." Emma didn't say a word just moved to take a seat in the computer chair next to Lyla. Once she was sitting Lyla she slid the letter across the desk. Not a word was spoken but their determination intensified. 

Hours later and several containers of the local Chinese food place they finally found caught a glimpse of the person with a package, coming on to the property. But nothing else.  Whoever it was they managed to avoid every other camera. 

Distraught wasn't the only word one could use to describe Lyla. She was angry, freaked out, creeped out, her paranoia was climbing to uncharted levels.  Simultaneously wanting to be alone and hide in her house forever and going outside and demand this person 'come at' her. Emma might be hyping her up more than helping her. 

"I'm calling a press conference time to face this." Feeling sick of all the bullshit by this point. She knew deep down this letter didn't have anything to do with the one that went to her mother's. Why would her dad waste the money to ship a package? She remembers him being cheap, screaming at her mom because she got name brand cheese cheap.  Her resolve firmly set into place. 

"They aren't going to bully my company from me." Lyla's serious, clipped tone shut Emma right up giving her no choice but to nod along with Lyla.