Page 11 of Saving Sophia

I remembered the forlorn little cry she let out when she thought no one was around, her growling stomach, and the slight tremble in her handshake.

“Can you help her?” I asked.

“Nothing I can do. I gave her my card, but I doubt she’ll call.” Hayden shrugged. “Come on, if we hurry, we can grab Thai food before they close.”

I followed him out, trying to let go of the image of her pink, heart-shaped lips, sucking on the lollipop, pretending she was fine.

I was still trying a half-hour later when we got to Hayden’s apartment with several white plastic takeout bags in hand. She’d mentioned coincidence. I wondered if that’s what meeting her was. Part of the worst, most horrible coincidence in the history of coincidences, according to her.

I wasn’t so sure. The way her eyes lit up when I offered her the lollipop didn’t seem horrible to me at all.

“So, you’re going back to Seattle?” Hayden asked as he went into the small, galley kitchen and pulled two beers from the fridge. “I figured when the Hotel Hedon renovation was done, you were officially part of the rich and famous, and we’d only get postcards from the Eiffel Tower and shit.”

I laughed and sat down on a shapeless tan recliner in the tiny living room. “Remember Woodland Ridge?”

“That old resort we used to go to? Sure.” He handed me a bottle before collapsing onto his well-worn couch and rooting through the bags. “Remember the time we wanted to sleep in a tent outside the cabin, but Uncle Joe had to stay with us all night because Rook was afraid of Big Foot?” His smile faltered, and his eyes went wistful. “Why? Is it even still open?”

“It’s closed, temporarily. New management. Undergoing a major renovation.”

He looked confused for a second before realization dawned in his eyes. “No shit? You bought it? For real?”

“For Aunt Carol,” I replied. “And all of us.”

“You big sentimental sap,” he said with a grin.

“I’m not a sap. It’s a great investment opportunity.” I pulled out a Styrofoam bowl from one of the bags.

“Sure, sure.” Hayden rolled his eyes and grabbed the remote. “She’s gonna love it, bro. Rook said she’s been sorta lost since … Uncle Joe …” He trailed off, then pushed a button, making the giant T.V. roar to life.

He clicked through the sports channels, neither of us wanting that thought to finish.

His phone rang once, then stopped. He looked at it, puzzled, a frown forming before he turned his attention back to the T.V.

Less than a minute later, his phone rang again. This time it kept ringing, and he answered it, his frown intensifying. He listened to the caller for a moment then leaped off the couch, barely landing his curry on the table before grabbing for my phone. “Give me your phone. Now.”

He threw his phone at me. “Stay with her, Ethan. Don’t hang up.” He punched at numbers on my phone, then barked orders into it.

I barely caught the phone, fumbling it up to my ear, dreading what was on the other end.

“Hello?”

“Ethan? From the police station?” the voice whispered, thick with terror and confusion, but I still recognized it.

The worst, most horrible coincidence in the history of coincidences wasn’t done yet.

“Sophia? Where are you?”

“In my closet,” her breath hitched. “Someone’s here.”

Fuck.

Hayden grabbed his keys and charged toward the front door. “Her place is only a few minutes from here,” he called over his shoulder. “We’ll get there before the uni’s.”

“We’re on our way. Hayden, uh, Detective Valero’s calling it in.” I tried to sound calm, for her sake, as I ran after Hayden toward his car.

“Please hurry,” she squeaked, her voice high and terrified.

“Stay quiet.” I hurled myself into the car. Hayden pulled off before I even had the door fully closed. “I’m right here with you. We’re coming.”

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