“I discovered nonalcoholic gin a few months ago, and I’m obsessed.” Marissa gestures to a barstool on the other side of a white Formica kitchen island. She goes to the other side and pulls two glasses out of a bottom cabinet. There are sharp edges all over this kitchen. She’s going to have a terrible time baby-proofing. Sophie wonders if she’s thought about that yet. She accepts the mocktail. Marissa slides a phone toward her, and Sophie gives her one in return.
“So, you’re getting ready for the baby already?” Sophie pockets the correct phone, already wishing she hadn’t come inside. It’s about as inviting as an ICU in here.
“Mmm. You saw the evidence by the recycling bin, then.” She smiles. “You know what it’s like.”
Sophie has the urge to ask if Marissa’s single, but she spots a modest ring on her left hand and recalls the men’s shoes by the front door. “The first year is hard,” she says, offering an ounce of polite conversation. “But it gets easier once they’re sleeping through the night.”
Marissa nods and smiles as if sleep deprivation won’t happen to her. “Is your daughter at home with your husband?” she asks.
“Wife, actually.”
Marissa makes an O shape with her mouth, and Sophie feels a sudden flush increasing her internal temperature.
Sophie always felt guilty that Marissa hadn’t been part of their initiation into the magic, but it wasn’t her choice. That decision was made by Barbara and Carly, Quinn’s and Joey’s moms. They never explained why they chose the four of them beyond saying they chose only themost trustworthy, but Sophie is starting to piece together how such a decision is made. Marissa would never have been chosen. Some people are innately repulsive.
“All those years. I am surprised you never came back to see Joey.” Marissa puts her glass down and wipes the condensation from her fingers on her pants. “I always thought you two were close.”
Sophie realizes there’s no question in this statement, and she feels herself bristle inwardly. She has been through her relationship with Joey and Elena with her therapist but still feels an ache when she thinks about how they missed so many years of friendship. And now…she doesn’t know if it can be repaired. “We used to be,” she says honestly.
“Well, I don’t blame you,” Marissa says. “Joey is absolutely obsessed with Quinn’s death. She thinks someone killed her. Did you know she basically questioned everyone here? Sometimes I think—” She waves a hand as if to say,“Never mind.”
“What?”
Marissa scoots her stool closer to Sophie’s, and Sophie leans away instinctively. “I probably shouldn’t say anything, but Quinn’s case file is missing. And we have files stored as far back as the sixties, so we should still have it. But I’ve checked, and it’s not there.”
Sophie is immediately on alert. She looks down at the floor, just in case her eyes betray her.
“You know what, I should ask River Hunstad,” says Marissa. “His dad used to be the police chief. He might know. But it just has made me think. River and Joey…” She lets the sentence trail off.
Sophie beats a thumb against her glass. She takes a sip.
“They’re sleeping together.”
Sophie coughs as the floral drink slips toward her windpipe. “What?”
Marissa’s satisfied expression is tantamount to gloating. “Oh yeah, they’ve been hiding it”—she puts air quotes around the wordshiding it— “for months now, maybe even years. Did you really not know?”
This last question is unnecessary, but Sophie bites her tongue. Joey never said anything about being with River, and the way she peppered him with questions just an hour ago—the internal turmoil when she found that antler must have been excruciating.
Marissa seems to interpret Sophie’s silence as shock, and it is, in part. “It’s weird, right? Dating her dead friend’s ex. That’s probably why they’re keeping it a secret.”
“Huh,” says Sophie. She cannot picture Joey and River together, but she hasn’t been here for fifteen years, so she supposes anything could have happened in that time. Though it would be out of character for Joey to betray Quinn like that, even Quinn’s memory, unless she really cared about him.
“So tell me, what is going on with you three? I can tell there is something brewing.” Marissa picks an ice cube from her glass and watches Sophie’s reaction.
Sophie struggles to keep her face blank. “Nothing’s going on. We’re just visiting.”
Marissa laughs without smiling. “You haven’t been back in years, and suddenly you’re here, breaking into people’s homes, arguing in public. I’m not an idiot, Sophie.”
Sophie winces inwardly but forces her face to remain passive. “Allegedly,” she says.
“What?”
“Allegedly breaking into people’s homes.”
“Is there anything you want to tell me before I find out myself?” Marissa leans in even closer, and Sophie realizes that she’s suddenly become Officer Berg.
Sophie holds her nerve. “Is this an interrogation?”
