Chapter 8
CHAPTER 8
SOFIA
T wenty minutes later, I pushed open the doors of the old Majestic Theater, forcing a smile onto my face as I spotted Meredith waiting in the lobby. A smile that felt far too fragile, but I'd spent the drive forcing myself to compartmentalize.
"I come bearing caffeine," I announced, holding up the now-lukewarm coffee cups.
Meredith turned, her face lighting up. "You're a lifesaver! I've been here since seven going over blueprints with the contractors."
I handed her the vanilla latte and took a sip of my own americano, grimacing at the temperature. "Sorry it's not hot anymore. There was a crazy line, and then so much traffic."
"No worries." She didn't seem to notice my discomfort as she gestured around the grand lobby. "Isn't it amazing? They've already started stripping away the old carpet, and look at those original tiles underneath!"
I followed her gaze to where workers had revealed a section of intricate mosaic flooring, the colors still vibrant despite decades of neglect.
"It's beautiful," I said, meaning it. The theater had been a landmark in our city for nearly a century before closing down. Seeing it come back to life was something special.
For the next hour, I let Meredith's enthusiasm wash over me as she showed me the restoration plans, letting my own horrific life drama take a back seat.
The grand staircase would be rebuilt exactly as it had been in the 1920s. The original chandelier had been found in storage and was being rewired. The stage would be modernized with state-of-the-art equipment while preserving its historic appearance.
"This section is off-limits right now," she said, pointing to a cordoned-off area. "They're reinforcing the ceiling before they start work there."
We headed to what had once been the theater manager's office, now serving as Meredith's command center. Blueprints and design boards covered every surface.
"So," she said, settling into a chair, "I need your opinion on the opening night. I'm thinking we should go classic—maybe 'A Midsummer Night's Dream' or 'The Importance of Being Earnest.' Something that honors the theater's history."
I nodded, trying to focus on her words instead of the dread still coiling in my stomach. "Both good choices. What about a musical? Something like 'Chicago' would fit the era of the theater."
"Ooh, I like that idea!" Meredith scribbled a note. "And for the grand opening gala, I was thinking?—"
A shout from the main theater interrupted her, followed by more yelling.
"Help! We need help!"
Of course something else was going to happen today. But I could certainly use any extra distractions.
We both jumped to our feet and ran toward the commotion. In the orchestra section, a cluster of workers surrounded a man on the floor, blood pooling beneath him.
The deep red liquid calmed whatever unease had been swirling through me. Ever since I'd taken my first life, I'd found blood oddly calming. Maybe it was something to do with my senses, how seeing it and smelling it helped anchor whatever anxiety or emotions were running amuck. It was grounding, and it made me focus.
"What happened?" Meredith asked, her face paling as we got closer.
"The saw kicked back," one of the workers explained, his hands pressed against his colleague's bloody arm. "Sliced right through his forearm."
I pushed forward, my heart steadying as I assessed the situation. "Let me through. I'm an ER nurse."
The injured man was conscious but in shock, his face ashen as he stared at the gash running the length of his forearm. Blood pulsed from the wound in a way that told me an artery had been nicked. Never a good thing, and made it a priority issue immediately. Time was not our friend.
"I need a belt or something to use as a tourniquet," I commanded, dropping to my knees beside him. Someone handed me a belt, and I quickly wrapped it around his upper arm, tightening it until the bleeding slowed.
"Call 911," I told Meredith, who was already on her phone.
I turned back to the injured worker, focusing on providing him with comfort and calm. "What's your name?"
"Mike," he managed through gritted teeth.
"Okay, Mike. I'm Sofia. I'm a nurse, and I'm going to take care of you until the ambulance gets here. You're going to be fine." I knew telling him he was going to be fine was never ideal, but right now, he needed to be calm. Panicking was only going to elevate his heart-rate, and that was not what we needed.
"Take deep breaths and stay calm. I'm here, more help is coming," I assured him as I examined the wound more carefully. The saw had cut deep, but hadn't severed any tendons completely from what I could see. Still, he'd need surgery and possibly microsurgery to repair the damage.
"Ambulance is five minutes out," Meredith reported after a moment on the phone.
I nodded, keeping pressure on the wound while monitoring Mike's pulse and breathing. Blood soaked through my sleeves and splattered across my jeans, but I barely noticed. This was my element—the place where everything else fell away and only the immediate crisis mattered.
By the time the paramedics arrived, I had the bleeding under control and had kept Mike stable and conscious. I gave them a quick rundown of his vitals and what I'd observed about the wound.
"Nice work," one of the paramedics said as they loaded Mike onto a stretcher. Mike reached out with his good arm as they began to carry him away, catching my arm.
"Thank you, Sofia," Mike said, and I nodded.
"Just doing my job. You're in good hands." I offered him a smile, which he did his best to return before they continued taking him away.
The workers dispersed, the supervisor having called for them to take the rest of the day off while a few remained to clean up.
I looked down at myself once the paramedics and Mike had left, the crowd around us now gone. So much blood covered my clothes and hands, staining my skin. And yet my heart still remained steady.
Meredith appeared at my side. "You were amazing."
I shrugged as I watched one of Mike's coworkers cleaning up the blood on the floor. "Just doing my job."
"Right...." She looked at my blood-soaked outfit uneasily. "You need to get cleaned up. I can get some clothes brought here?"
"I think I'd rather just go home and shower," I said as I headed to the theater bathrooms, which had the plumbing already sorted. I'd clean off as much blood as I could for now.
"Of course, we'll do that."
Meredith was quiet as I cleaned myself in the ladies washroom, only speaking when she offered me some paper towels once I'd gotten most of the blood off my skin.
A knock on the door had us both turning. "Can I come in?"
"Sure," I responded to the male voice.
A worker entered, offering me a jacket as his gaze trailed over my bloody clothes.
"Thought you'd like to get out of your shirt. We can probably wrangle up some pants too."
"Thanks, this is enough, I'm going to head home and shower," I said as I accepted the offering, giving him a grateful smile.
"Right, well our supervisor and site manager are just gathering statements, said they'd like yours too if that's okay." He looked uneasy, like the sight of all the blood was unsettling him.
"Got it, we'll come back find you all," Meredith spoke up, and the man nodded before he left.
"They're lucky you were here," she murmured as I tugged my shirt off and replaced it with the jacket.
"yeah, honestly, I just want to go shower. It's been a hectic day," I said as I zipped the jacket up.
"Right, let's get those statements done and get you home. I'm driving," Meredith said quickly, and I didn't bother to argue.
I was feeling drained and tired after everything, my brain fried from all the emotions and stress.
We found the supervisor and site manager quickly, who were grateful for my assistance and quick thinking. Again, I told them I was just doing my job as we gave our statements.
I mentally checked out midway through, my brain overwhelmed, and the next thing I knew, we were leaving the theater and heading to my car, my mind feeling like it was encased in a thick fog.
Meredith drove us to my house in my car, casting concerned glances my way, which her driver, Jackson, followed in her designated car behind.
"Are you okay? You seem... off today. Even before all this happened."
I was far from okay. I stared out the window, a numbness having settled over me. Meredith was my best friend, the only person I truly considered family these days, the only one I would trust with all of this. I wanted to confess everything—Marco's death, the marriage proposal, the threats. I wanted to cry and scream about how hard it was, how I didn't know what to do, how I felt trapped and paralyzed. A part of me, a dark, broken part, whispered that there was only, truly, one way out. But I shoved it down just as quickly.
I was a fighter, and I sure as shit was not about to take the easy way out. Even if it was tempting right now.
I glanced at Meredith, at the worry lining her features, at how much she cared for me. I'd never do that to her. But Meredith was also so happy right now, basking in newlywed bliss and excited about the theater project. Sure, the episode with Mike had put a damper on things, but she'd be back to it quickly. How could I drag her into my darkness? Put all of this stress and weight on her shoulders? It was not her burden to carry. She was innocent, and she deserved to enjoy this time.
I could handle this on my own. I'd learned to handle everything in my life. Because whether I liked it or not, I was a Savoca, and I was able to handle anything thrown my way. The only good thing about this damned cursed name.
"I'm fine," I lied as we pulled into my driveway. "Just tired. Work's been crazy lately, and this whole thing has just drained me." I managed a weak smile as she shut the engine off.
She didn't look convinced, but she didn't push as we exited the car and headed into my house.
"I'm going to grab a shower, get out of these clothes," I said, gesturing over myself and the bloody shirt I was carrying.
"I'll order some food," she offered. "Fried chicken and ice cream? Maybe open a bottle of wine?"
I managed a smile. "You know me too well."
In the sanctuary of my bathroom, I stripped off my ruined clothes and stepped under the hot spray of the shower, watching as remnants of Mike's blood swirled down the drain. It reminded me of other blood. Other lives cut short. Sure, I saved lives, but I'd taken them too.
A voice whispered in my mind, trying to slice through the haze so that I could figure things out. Run and risk those I love. Fight and almost certainly lose. Comply and sacrifice my freedom.
There had to be another option. Some way out that I wasn't seeing.
A sudden wave of nausea hit me, so intense I doubled over. Before I could react, I was vomiting into the shower drain, my body heaving until there was nothing left.
I braced myself against the tile wall, breathing hard. I thought I was good at managing my stress levels, but I guess with Ernesto's call, all of this was too much for me. All the stress, then the whole Mike thing.
I needed to pull it together. I couldn't fall apart, not now. I needed to figure this out, decide on my next step.
I rinsed my mouth and finished my shower, wrapping myself in a robe before heading to my bedroom to find clean clothes. Through the wall, I could hear Meredith on the phone, her voice light and happy, likely checking in with Leo.
I sat heavily on the edge of my bed, the weight of my situation pressing down on me. Whatever I decided, whatever path I chose, I needed to protect the new life I'd built—and the people in it.
Starting with Meredith.