It took a lot to completely throw Marguerite, to make her blood run cold and feel acute fear. There had been what happened between Chauvelin and Matthew, the possessive nature and realisation that he had no qualms hurting people to control her. It was why she hadn't taken an audition in New York. And well, while that had worked out for her given how things had played out here, that was the only other time in recent history where Marguerite had felt the fear she did now. Fear from this time and place, not the type that bled over from the Dreams, first when she though Armand had been thrashed, and then when she'd seen Percy 'beheaded'.
This was all here, all a person who was following her. She had seen photos from when she'd gone to see her parents' grave after meeting with the Equity office. There was a month's worth of photos at least and that unnerved her. And made her worry about the safety of the women at the shelter. While the anger seemed directed at Percy, as if he stood in this person's way of owning Marguerite, she also worried that others would be in the crossfire.
"Right... yes...I'll go get the poem..."
Because she had indeed kept it locked up just in case anything else showed up. She was mostly in a state of shock. Shock and terror. She knew that this couldn't be Chauvelin, just because it wasn't his style. No. He was much more of the owning his insanity. She more would expect him to show up at her door as if nothing had happened as opposed to sending anonymous poems and photos. Marguerite was vaguely aware of the anger that seemed to be emanating off of Percy despite the calmness he seemed to still possess, but her mind was racing with what was happening there and then.