27. Sophie
27
SOPHIE
T he first thing I pull out of the suitcase is my favorite hoodie, soft and worn, the fabric frayed at the edges.
I finished dinner and got back to my bedroom to find my cases here. Everything that was at my Grandma’s is now here. It’s not much, but at least it makes me feel a little more at home.
It doesn’t square with the coldhearted Maxim I think I know. He arranged this without telling me. Didn’t even mention it during dinner.
I pull out a photo frame wrapped in an old scarf for protection. It’s of me and Grandma at Coney Island, her arm slung over my shoulder as we grin like idiots at the camera. Taken three months after mom died.
An attempt to get me smiling again. It worked. The memory makes my chest tighten. I set the frame on the nightstand, next to a silver lamp shaped like a swan.
I move to my laptop on the ornate desk by the window. When I open the screen, the countdown timer flashes back at me, stark and unforgiving.
My fingers hover over the keyboard, and I start working on the file. For hours, I lose myself in the work, the familiar rhythm of problem-solving calming my nerves. But my concentration snaps when my cell rings.
“Hi, Gran,” I say as I press it to my ear. “How’s Rook’s Hollow treating you?”
“Oh, it’s lovely to be back, dear,” Amber replies, her voice warm and familiar. “The air is so fresh, and the nurses are absolute angels. But how are you? You sound different.”
“Different how?” I ask, leaning back in my chair.
“I don’t know. Tired, maybe. Stressed.” There’s a pause, and I can picture her narrowing her eyes in that way she does when she knows I’m hiding something. “Is everything all right, Sophie?”
“Of course,” I say quickly, too quickly. “Just busy with work. You know how demanding these corporate gigs can be.”
“Mmm,” she says, clearly not convinced. “And this ‘work’ you’re doing… it’s all above board, right? Nothing shady?”
“Shady?” I laugh, but it sounds hollow even to me. “Gran, come on. You know me. I’m the most boring person you know.”
“Boring isn’t the word I’d use for someone who suddenly moved out of the city and took a secret job for a month,” she says, her tone sharp but loving. “The place he’s put me in must be expensive. Sophie, if there’s something going on, it’s not like it was with Evan is it?”
“What do you mean?”
“He’s not using you, is he?”
“No,” I say, my voice firmer than I intended. I take a deep breath, softening my tone. “I promise, Gran. I’m fine. Just a lot on my plate right now.”
She sighs, and I can hear the worry in the exhale. “All right, dear. But if you need anything—anything at all—you call me. Promise?”
“Of course,” I say, my throat tightening. I can’t tell her the truth. I can’t even admit it to myself.
Because the truth is I’m no longer afraid of Maxim. I’m afraid I might be falling for him.