10. Sophie

10

SOPHIE

Y ou blink, and you’re leaving the hotel room. Blink again, and you’re on the streets of New York, trying to pretend that everything’s fine. Blink one more time, and you’re walking into a party, swallowing down every fucking ridiculous piece of guilt that’s stuck in your throat.

I stare at the ceiling for a while before I even think about moving. The city lights keep blinking through the curtains, making the room feel like it’s alive in some way I don’t want to be a part of. I can hear Mom’s soft breathing from here. She’s sleeping, probably dreaming about whatever it is she dreams about—orders, control, perfect little assassins.

I don’t look at her for too long—just long enough to make sure she’s out.

I’m a little surprised she didn’t wake up when I pulled the covers off and got up. She doesn’t miss much. But for tonight, I need a break from her, from all of it. From the killing, from pretending, from the fear that’s been sitting in my chest like a hot rock all day.

I grab my phone off the nightstand. I’m not surprised when I see Malik’s name flashing across the screen .

Malik: Hey, Rob’s throwing a party. You coming or what?

I don’t even think twice.

Yeah. Send me the address.

There’s something absurd about it. The way the words come out so easily. I’m already thinking about how to explain it if Mom wakes up and asks where I’m going. But she won’t. I added an Ambien to her nightly glass of red. She’s going to kill me, but she’s also going to have the best night’s sleep she’s had in a long time. Maybe that will be worth it to her.

Time will tell if it’s worth it to me. I keep trying to convince myself that this is normal. At some point, I really did think I could have a normal life. And maybe, in another world, I’d be at some lame bar with friends I didn’t know that well, talking about shit that doesn’t matter, and none of this would be my reality. But that’s not the world I’m in. Not as long as she’s around.

I pull on my jacket, trying to ignore the way my fingers feel like they’re still trembling. I’m surprised Mom didn’t notice something was off. She has a way of reading me, and right now, I’m way off script. I glance at her, once more, but she’s still breathing steadily in the dark, her head slightly tilted, like she’s in another world.

I slip out the door quietly and close it behind me.

The city’s buzzing with everything I’m trying to forget. The street’s crowded, even at this time of night, like the world’s in fast forward and I’m the only one who’s moving at half-speed.

I make it to Rob’s place in what feels like record time, but I don’t feel any better. If anything, I feel worse. Everyone else is laughing, shouting, acting normal, like none of them know what it feels like to do something you can’t take back. The music’s loud enough to rattle my teeth, and it’s all the distraction I need to keep from thinking about anything real.

I spot Malik right away. He’s standing by the kitchen, talking to a group of people, his smile wide and effortless. When he sees me, he grins and waves.

“Sophie!” he calls, and I force myself to smile back.

“You actually showed,” he says, his voice more amused than surprised. “Thought you were too good for this shit.”

“Guess not.”

Malik looks at me for a second, his expression shifting. “Relax, Sophie. It was a joke.”

When I don’t say anything, he gives me the once-over. “Come on, let’s get you a drink. You look like you need it.”

Three drinks later and sweet, unassuming Malik is trying to convince me my biggest problem is that I’m homesick. “It’s completely normal,” he says, slurring his words in a way I find slightly endearing.

“Right.”

He stares at me for a long beat until I finally add, “I mean, yeah, I know.”

“So what have you been up to, Sophie Jones? You only respond to about one in ten texts, so it’s hard to tell if you’re avoiding me or if you’re just busy.”

I grab a drink from the counter, anything to fill the space between us. "Just, y'know... Hanging out with my mom and trying not to stab some random guy in an alleyway.” I say it too casually, but it’s out before I can stop myself.

“That’s New York for you.”

“No kidding. In Texas it’s easier. We just use guns.”

Malik laughs, the sound light, like it’s all just a joke. But there’s a flicker in his expression, something that shifts, subtle but noticeable. “You’re funny, Sophie Jones.”

I tilt my head back, swallowing down the burn of whatever drink I’ve grabbed. It’s cheap, it’s bitter, and it’s perfect. Because in a second, the noise of the party fades away, and I’m not thinking about the knife in my hand or the blood on my clothes or what happened in that alley. Just for a second, I can forget .

I take another drink, feeling the edges of my thoughts blur. The party spins around me, people laughing, dancing, doing all the things kids my age are supposed to do. And for a moment, I think about what it would be like to be one of them. To live a life that isn’t measured by how many bodies you’ve left behind.

But then Malik asks another question, and I’m pulled back into reality. “You ever think about what people really want?” he asks with an offhandedness that feels deliberate, like he’s testing me.

I glance at him, trying to find the right words, but my mouth is too dry. “What do you mean?” I ask, though I think I already know.

He shrugs, flicking a finger toward the chaos around us. “You know. Everyone’s out here pretending. Like we’re all doing this because we want to. But do you think we even know what we really want? Or is it all just...this?"

He gestures at the room, at the mess, the noise. “It’s kind of funny, don’t you think? We’re all just pretending to be someone we’re not, wanting something we really don’t.”

I can’t help it. I laugh. Not because it’s funny, but because it’s the truth. “You have no idea how often I think about that.”

He raises his cup in my direction. “Birds of a feather,” he says, and I hate myself a little because I think I might actually like him. Neither one of us can afford that.

So I have another drink, and then another. The party is still loud, the music thumping in my chest, but my head’s already somewhere else. Somewhere darker. I can feel the knife in my hand again, the way it felt to twist it into someone who thought they were safe. The look in his eyes when he realized he wasn’t.

I smile, though, as I lead Malik out to the balcony, because no one here knows and I can be whoever I want.

And maybe that’s the only thing I have left to hold onto.