42. Sophie

42

SOPHIE

“ M om? Dad? ”

Malik stands next to me, his eyes darting between my parents and the lifeless body on the floor. “Wait, I thought your dad was dead.”

He’s staring at everything—at me, at my family—as if I’ve somehow pulled off the greatest con of the century. Like everything I’ve told him has been an elaborate performance. And honestly, with how this is, I don’t blame him.

“He is. He was ,” I say, my eyes still trained on the dead man. He doesn’t even look like a real person anymore, just a limp, bloodied sack of flesh crumpled in the middle of the room.

Dad, unfazed, steps forward and opens his arms to hug me. “Sophie.”

I take a quick step back. I know this is the point where I’m supposed to freak out, seeing my dad alive—but we have bigger, more pressing matters right now.

“Look—” I start, rubbing my temples, my head spinning in a way I really don’t want to deal with right now. “I don’t know what the fuck is going on, but we have a problem.”

My parents exchange a brief glance, some silent communication passing between them. Like they’re debating whether or not they need to give me the rundown about why my dad is here alive, and not dead as they’ve allowed me to believe for the past three years , or if they can get away with pretending everything’s fine.

I shift my gaze back to Malik, who looks like he’s about to lose consciousness. His face is pale, his mouth hanging slightly open, and I swear I can see his brain trying to process everything at once.

“Your father took care of it,” Mom says, and there’s something about her tone that suggests she’s just talking about picking up the dry cleaning or getting the car washed.

Malik blinks, jerking his gaze away from the corpse. “So, your dad is alive and, uh, he just killed someone?” His voice cracks as it climbs several pitches. “No big deal?”

I roll my eyes. This is nothing. This is Tuesday for my family. But I can’t explain that to Malik right now without going into way more detail than I have time for at this moment.

I glance at my parents, both of them acting like none of this is unusual. Like they haven’t spent the last three years letting me believe my father was dead, only to pop up again, alive and well. Like I didn’t just spend three years mourning a man who didn’t die, but who was instead… doing this shit? Killing people. Hiding out. Whatever.

“Your mother ordered a hit on me,” Dad says, like he’s reading my mind. “But we’ve worked it out and now everything is fine.”

Mom cuts her eyes to him. “We haven’t worked anything out.”

“I don’t have time for this,” I say, and I almost feel like I’m talking to myself at this point. “The reason I’m here is because we have another problem. Hayley’s on the boat.”

My parents blink at me like I’ve just dropped a bomb, which, to be fair, I basically have. They exchange another look—this one more meaningful, like they both know the exact level of chaos this is going to cause.

“What the hell is she doing here?” Dad asks, staring at Mom. His voice is calm, but I can see the hint of frustration behind his eyes. He never liked Hayley’s rebellious streak, and now it’s going to bite us all in the ass.

“She followed me. She followed us ,” I say, “and now she’s on the lower deck with a bunch of people she shouldn’t be with. Drunk. Being...Hayley.”

I try not to roll my eyes. Of course, Hayley’s already causing a scene. She can’t just show up and be normal. She has to ruin everything.

“She shouldn’t be drinking,” Malik says, looking from my mom to my dad to me, like this is the worst of our problems. “She’s underage,” he adds. I have to suppress another eye roll at his overstatement of the obvious.

“Drama queen,” I say. “It’s what she does.”

“Hayley’s not exactly the type to hold her liquor,” Mom says. She seems blasé, like this is just another Tuesday, too. “Go get her, Sophie. Make her listen. Before she makes more of a scene.”

“That’s what I tried to do,” I say, throwing my hands up. “I tried to get her to come with me, but she started shouting.”

Dad shrugs. "What did you expect? She’s like your mother.” My mother slowly turns her head to stare at him, and if looks could kill, he'd be dead for real this time.

Malik gapes at him. He doesn’t say anything, but I can see exactly what he’s thinking: What in the fuck did I get myself into with this family?

I look at my parents, but I know they’ve already moved on. They’re not even concerned. This isn’t some big inconvenience. It’s not even a family emergency.

“Fine,” Mom snaps. “I’ll go.”

Malik just stares at me, probably wondering if this is his life now. If he's really about to step into a world where killing people, family drama, and drunken sisters causing scenes are just part of the deal. I wouldn’t blame him if he ran out the door right now.

But he doesn’t. Instead, he clears his throat. “So...what’s the plan after that?”

“I have an SUV waiting at the dock,” Dad says, glancing at Mom. “Meet us there.”

“There are a thousand black SUVs at the dock, Michael,” Mom points out.

Dad gives a quick, exaggerated shrug. “I’ll stick out my hand and wave.”

“Can I get a ride back to my dorm?” Malik asks, like he really thinks they're going to just let him go back to his life and hope for the best.

“You’re not going back to your dorm,” Dad says, and I see Malik stiffen. “We’re taking a little vacation. All of us.”

“I have finals,” Malik protests.

Dad shakes his head. “Not anymore you don’t.”