Glancing towards the hallway, I ask, “How is she?”
“Okay,” Knight replies. “Worried about you.”
My heart wrenches. Of courseSofia would worry about me. Even though I don’t deserve it.
“I guess I’ll see if she’s still up.” Releasing a heavy sigh, I head across the living room. “Thanks for staying with her. Sorry it went so late.”
“It’s fine,” Wraith says. As I pass by, he pats my arm. “I know this sucks. I’m sorry. You need anything…”
“I know.” I appreciate his concern. And Knight’s, too. Plus Houdini and Jester, who asked me if I was okay several times on the way home. It’s no different from how I’d act if one of them were hurting. But I can’t talk about it now. It’s too fresh. Too painful.
“I’ll call you tomorrow,” Knight says. “Unless you want to talk sooner.”
“Thanks.” I nod at Knight, then Wraith. “I’m just going to check on Sofia and then go to bed.”
Without waiting for them to leave, I continue towards Sofia’s bedroom. Each step feels slower than the one before.
And with each one, another crushing reminder comes.
She’s going to leave me.
She’ll never forgive me.
How could she, after what my father did to her?
When I reach her bedroom door, I push it open carefully. If she’s asleep, I don’t want to wake her up.
But just like the first night I came back from my parents’, she’s sitting up in bed, reading. The instant she sees me, she closes the book and sets it to the side. “Nico?” Worry lines her forehead. “Are you okay?”
I take her in, so beautiful it makes my heart hurt. “Yeah.” A beat passes, and then I amend, “No. I’m not.”
“Nico.”
“He did it. All of it. We found the evidence.” Swallowing hard, I add, “He’s the one who tried to kill you. All three times. Because you were onto his fucked up conspiracy. He wanted to shut you up before you could ruin it.”
Sofia winces. “Nico.”
“I know.” Every muscle in my body is so heavy. “I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” Backing out of the room, I add, “Just… don’t leave tonight. Okay? I don’t know if it’s safe.”
Turning, I head down the hallway.
The walls close in around me.
My chest hurts. It’s hard to breathe.
I had a chance, and now it’s gone.
My eyes sting.
Fuck. It hurts.
When I get to my bedroom, I sag onto my bed. I don’t have the energy to do more.
Leaning over, I rest my elbows on my knees and stare at the stupid black tiles the interior decorator insisted on.
I hate them. I hate this condo.
I hate my father.
