“I was just curious.”
“Curious about what? What it’s like to die? To lose someone you love?”
As Nicola’s eyes move, Elena catches a seemingly involuntary biteof her lip. A nervous tic. But she doesn’t look at Cal like Elena thinks she’s going to. Instead, she goes quiet. Her gaze finds its way back to Elena, and there’s a new, surprising intensity there, almost as if it holds a message, but it’s impossible to interpret. Someone calls Nicola’s name from the other side of the tent.
She unlocks her gaze from Elena’s. “Come on,” she says to Cal. “Save me fromhim.” She tugs at his arm the way a daughter might pull at her father.
Without wriggling free of Nicola, Cal turns to give Elena his attention one more time. “Send me your reel,” he says. “I’ll have the casting director reach out to your agent just so I’m not going completely rogue. I’ll email you the pages and maybe some notes.”
“Sounds good,” says Elena, feeling buoyant, despite Nicola’s presence. What she really wants to say is,“Sounds fucking amazing.”And what she really wants to do is give Cal Pierce a big, wet kiss. But she won’t. She definitely, definitely won’t.
33Sophie
Brunch.
The only thing close to brunch Sophie has had for eighteen months is cold pancakes peeled from her toddler’s plate. They enter beneath a freshly printed sign that saysThe Scrambled Egg. She tries to think of what used to be in this building. The brick overlay above the door is familiar, but she can’t remember.
She ran into Marissa at the coffee shop this morning, and because she was alone and she has no willpower, Sophie was strong-armed into an imminent brunch date. Sophie tried to wrangle Joey and Elena into it too, via the group chat, claiming it would be a chance to get information from Marissa, maybe the cop perspective, but Elena had to work. Joey, however, agreed to tag along and said she wanted to get a read on what Marissa’s police chief dad knew about Quinn’s case. Sophie was relieved.
She feels a little silly that she’s brought her giant bag, which is actually a diaper bag, but it’s passable as a purse, and she’s really only brought it because she was planning to take it to the spell circle. She is still trying not to think too hard about the possibility that someonecould be sneaking into her room while she sleeps. The idea makes her cold with dread. Last night she clutched the journal to her chest and woke at every sound. Even the absence of noise had her eyes peeling open, her half-asleep body involuntarily preparing for something terrible. At about four in the morning, she started to confuse panic about the journal with panic about Leah and ended up calling Talia, who—sanely—did not answer.
She spots Marissa in a booth, dressed in a maternity shirt buttoned all the way up to the neck. Sophie wishes she’d had a chance to remind Joey not to give any clues that they’ve seen the case file.
“So glad we did this,” Marissa says after they’ve hugged. Sophie and Joey sit across from her. “It’s been so long, Soph. What’s new with you?”
Sophie pushes out a smile. “Not much. I have a daughter. Eighteen months.”
“Oh my gosh,” gushes Marissa. “I can’t wait. But we’re hoping for a boy.” She runs her hands over her belly.
Sophie decides on a morning bun with a side of bacon and a tea. Marissa gets an egg white omelet. Joey just orders coffee.
“So, Marissa,” Joey says as their drinks arrive. “I never asked you why you ended up a police officer.”
Sophie’s senses go on alert, and she hasn’t even gotten her food yet. Joey is so blunt. It’s hard to help her navigate conversations so they go smoothly.
But if Marissa senses there is an agenda behind Joey’s question, she doesn’t let on. “Well, my dad was police,” she says, adding a little laugh that says,“You should have known that, silly.”
“It’s…in the blood, I guess. He worked Quinn’s case, actually. You might remember.”
“I do,” says Joey. “Did he ever talk about it at home? Quinn’s case?”
Sophie presses her knee into Joey’s under the table.Easy.
“No.” Marissa shakes her head. “He was a professional through andthrough. But the case was closed within a couple of days I think. It was pretty clear to everyone what happened. But you… That’s right, you continued toinvestigatefor, what, another several years?” She puts air quotes around the wordinvestigate.
Sophie notices Joey scowl into her coffee mug.
“So, when are you due?” Sophie asks quickly. She wants to show Joey that Marissa is the sort of person you can’t ask direct questions to. She needs to be buttered up. “Hopefully you’ll get good maternity leave?” Sophie adds.
“Oh gosh, mid-October. My dad’s birthday, actually. I’m so blessed that both of my parents are still around.”
Sophie blanches. It could be just an offhand comment, but it’s not, she knows. It’s a dig because everyone in this town knows Sophie’s mom left her at an early age, and she is sure everyone knows Joey’s mom took her own life. Her attempt at buttering Marissa up was a waste of breath. This entire conversation is a waste of breath, and she wishes she had just said no.
Their breakfast plates arrive, and a gluey silence spreads. Marissa was always a rule follower, rigid and self-righteous. She once told the principal that Sophie’s skirt was too tight, and the principal evidently agreed because Sophie was forced to change into a spare pair of slacks borrowed from a teacher. But most of Sophie’s clothes were tight. It was the shape of her body that made them that way, not that she was buying them tight on purpose.
“That’s what Tanner thinks, anyway,” Marissa is saying to Joey when Sophie checks back into the conversation.
Distantly, she registers the name. “Tanner McGrath?”
