Nico. My first love. My only love. He just turned his back on me, like I was nothing. Like the two years we’d spent together didn’t matter. I’d given everything to him. My heart. My trust. My body. And it all meant nothing.
Years on, I gained some perspective. Not that it made me feel better, or less betrayed, but it helped me understand. Nico idolized his dad. And when Elio Parisi went to his son armed with evidence and a staunch insistence that I was guilty, Nico believed him.
I get it. But that doesn’t mean I forgive him.
Why did Elio insist I was guilty? That’s a question I’ve asked myself over and over. And the best explanation I can come up with is that he never thought I was good enough for his son. I wasn’t rich. I was just a scholarship student from Brooklyn instead of one of the wealthy students whose parents could actually afford to pay tuition. I didn’t have big dreams of becoming a corporate attorney or a stockbroker.
I was nothing, in Elio’s eyes. And I think he’d decided he had enough. Before Nico and I could go off to college together, Elio effectively cut me out of Nico’s life. And then, in a false gesture of generosity, he offered to drop the charges, but only if I agreed to his conditions.
“Leave the city,”he said when he came to see me five days after my arrest.“I’ll drop the charges if you leave. Don’t talk to Nico. Don’t even think about it. As soon as you’re released, I want you gone. And if you go back on our agreement, I’ll make sure you regret it.”His voice dipped threateningly.“I won’t just make you regret it, Sofia. I’ll make sure your mom regrets it, too.”
I knew he had the power to do it. After all, I’d already been kicked out of school. Breaking the code of conduct, the headmaster told my mom. But I knew it was because Elio Parisi demanded it. Rich, connected Elio who didn’t have any trouble paying Nico’s tuition. Compared to a poor scholarship student accused of theft, I didn’t have a chance.
If it had just been me, I might have gone to Nico, anyway. But I was afraid of what would happen to my mom. I couldn’t take the risk.
So I accepted his deal.
The charges were dropped, and I was released from the detention center.
I went back home, but only for a couple of days before a rushed move to my aunt’s apartment upstate.
There’s nothing left to fight for,I reminded myself as I grimly packed up my things.Nico doesn’t believe in me. He doesn’t love me. Not like I thought he did.
I never told my mom the truth about my move. I didn’t want her involved. I just told her I needed a fresh start. Someplace far away from?—
A clunk sounds from the direction of the living room.
My heart jumps.
Fear slams into me, stealing my breath.
Nico’s at work. He left—I sneak a quick glance at the time on my loaner phone—just about an hour ago. And he said he’d be back around six or seven, which is hours and hours from now.
So what was that noise?
The food service delivery? Maybe they come inside the condo to load up the fridge?
Or could it be a housekeeper? Nico didn’t mention having someone in to clean, but it’s possible he forgot about it.
Did Knight come back? Since he’s Nico’s best friend, maybe he has a key to get in.
Maybe it’s nothing. Maybe it was something settling, like I hear in my apartment sometimes.
A beat later, I realize the unlikelihood of Nico’s fancy condosettling. This isn’t a forty-year-old apartment building that’s seen a lot of better days. It’s an expensive high rise with multi-million dollar condos. I don’t think anythingsettleshere.
Another soft thunk carries through the partially open bedroom door.
My pulse doubles in speed, pounding in rapid, staccato beats that make my head ache.
Terrified thoughts spin around me in a dizzying whirl.
What if it’s not as safe here as Nico thinks?
What if they found me?
What if the old saying, three strikes and you’re out, holds true?
This is my third strike. The third attack. And possibly the one I won’t survive.
