Page 47 of Saving Sophia

Ethan climbed back into the driver’s seat and looked at me, puzzled. I tried to smile at him, but my face had forgotten how. “No, I’m sorry, detective. I don’t know anything about that guy.”

Hayden paused and made a tapping sound. An image of his notebook and pen flashed in my head. “I didn’t say it was a guy.”

My eyes bulged.

Oh shoot.

“I meant body. Was it a guy? I guess I assumed.” I let out a half-hysterical little laugh and forced myself to stop squeezing the phone like a stress ball. “That’s so sexist of me.”

“Yeah,” Hayden said skeptically. “Does the name Nik Vasili mean anything to you?”

“Nik Vasili means nothing to me.” My voice shook. “I mean … that name … means nothing.” What was I even saying? “I didn’t see anything. Sorry, detective.”

Ethan’s eyes narrowed, his whole focus on me.

“Yep.” Hayden blew out a resigned sigh. “I have some other news.” He paused, long enough for my tummy to imitate a free-fall off a cliff. “There was another break-in at your apartment.”

Oh no.

“Callie? Is she?—”

“She’s safe,” he said quickly. “And we got a partial print this time. I should get the results later today.”

I couldn’t make sense of the details through my panic. “Great. That’s … so great. Umm … thank you?” Ethan cocked his head, waiting for me to pass him the phone.

My mind raced. The police knew about the murder. Someone broke into the apartment again, and now the police had a fingerprint. Ethan said Hayden was a good detective. He would connect those dots, and I hadn’t been honest. Would I be in trouble? Would they think I was hiding something? Especially after that slip about the body being a guy. What if they thought I was in on it?

And worst of all, a second break-in meant Mr. Roscoe was still very interested in finding me.

I half-handed, half-threw the phone at Ethan and stared hard out the window as he pulled out onto the road, chatting with his brother.

I couldn’t follow what they were saying. Panic flashed around in my brain like a disco ball gone berserk. What should I do? What about Callie? I dashed out a quick text, but she didn’t respond. It didn’t even look like it was delivered.

Calm down. Hayden said she was safe.

But Mr. Roscoe knew we were roommates. How stupid was I to think she wouldn’t be in danger if I didn’t tell her anything? I had panicked and run away with the most ridiculous half-plan in the history of poorly-thought-out plans.

Mr. Roscoe was powerful and well-connected. He murdered someone without batting an eye. Why wouldn’t he have the same casual attitude about finding and killing some nobody waitress and her friend?

“Sophia? Hey? Where did you go?”

I jerked my head around and let a lame smile limp across my lips.

“There you are.” He flipped the turn signal and switched lanes. “Thought I’d lost you?”

“I’m sorry … I was … wondering where we were going.”

The number one rule is honesty. That’s crucial.

His words seared into me, burning like hot smoke in my lungs, making it hard to breathe.

“Hayden thinks he has a lead on who attacked you,” he said after a few minutes of silence. “That must be a relief?”

“Mmm, yeah, mmhmm,” I mumbled.

Concern rippled across his face. “Have you thought about what you’ll do when they catch him?”

More like what I’d do when they didn’t catch him. Or when they figured out it wasn’t a random attack.

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