Page 64 of Rescuing Sophia

I step closer, placing a hand on his arm. “It’s a relief you found it.”

He nods slowly, but I can see the uncertainty lingering in his expression. “Yeah, I guess so.”

I lean in and kiss his cheek, trying to push away the growing fear that he knows more than he’s letting on. “Let’s not think about it too much. It’s just a badge, right?”

Blake’s arms wrap around me, and for a moment, I relax into his embrace. But the knot in my stomach remains.

I hate lying to him—deceiving him like this.

TWENTY

Sophia

Autumn firmly settlesover Guardian HQ, bringing a chill that mirrors the dread in my heart.

The usually vibrant California sun seems to recoil from my traitorous activities, shrouding itself behind a thick veil of gray clouds, turning its face away from my betrayal.

Day after day, the sun struggles to break through, its weak rays barely penetrating the ashen sky. When it does manage to peek through, it feels accusatory, its harsh light exposing my every move. I shrink from its gaze, seeking the shadows as I go about my clandestine tasks.

Even the usually temperate climate has turned against me. An unseasonable chill permeates the air, seeping into my bones. The cold is a constant reminder of the warmth I’m betraying, of the heat of Blake’s embrace that I’ll soon leave behind.

As I move through Guardian HQ, planting devices and inputting codes, the damp mist clings to me, much like the guilt that refuses to let me go. Fog rolls in, obscuring familiar landmarks, making the place I’ve come to call home feel alien and hostile.

In this dreary, sun-starved world, I’ve become a shadow myself—a traitor moving unseen, my actions hidden by the gloom thatseems to judge me. In its relentless gray misery, the weather is both my accomplice and my accuser, covering my misdeeds while constantly reminding me of the brightness I’m leaving behind.

Each day blurs into the next, a haze of coffee orders and stolen moments of sabotage. The drizzle that has become near-constant feels like nature’s silent weeping for my betrayal.

Every time my phone buzzes with new instructions, my stomach clenches, but I obey. I call in sick to work, my voice hoarse as I lie to Jenna. Then, I sneak into various buildings across the Guardian HQ complex—the damp air clings to me, as suffocating as the guilt weighing me down.

I plant devices and input codes as directed; each act is another nail in the coffin of the life I’ve come to love.

My instructions appear as if by magic—in my locker at work, slipped under the apartment door, and once even tucked into my apron at The Guardian Grind.

I don’t know who’s passing them to me, but the thought that Malfor has other operatives here sends a chill down my spine. I wish I could warn Blake about this security breach, but the irony of my position—the biggest breach of all—keeps me silent.

Each night, I return to Blake’s arms, hating myself for the lies, but unable to give up the warmth and love I’ve found with him. As we cuddle on the couch, the throw blanket wrapped around us against the autumn chill, I try to memorize every detail—the sound of his heartbeat, the feeling of his arms around me, the way his laugh rumbles through his chest.

With each act of betrayal, these precious moments slowly slip away, replaced by the cold reality of my true purpose.

The next day dawns gray and misty, matching my mood as I head to work at The Guardian Grind. As I tie my apron, my fingers brush against something tucked in the pocket. My heart sinks as I discreetly pull out a small envelope. Inside are several tiny devices—listening bugs—and a handwritten note with instructions.

Throughout my shift, I move around the café, planting the bugs in inconspicuous places. Under tables, behind picture frames, and even in the potted plants.

I slip into the cafeteria during my break, continuing my clandestine task. The constant chatter and clinking of dishes mask the sound of my movements as I strategically place the bugs around the room.

As I’m finishing up, my phone buzzes. I duck into an empty hallway to answer it.

“Is it done?”Malfor’s cold voice slithers through the line.

I swallow hard. “Yes. I placed the devices in The Guardian Grind and the cafeteria as you instructed.”

“Excellent.”His tone shifts, a hint of glee creeping in.“You’ve done well, my pet. Tomorrow’s your last day there.”

The words strike me hard, nearly knocking me off balance. My legs buckle, and I have to brace myself against the wall to keep from collapsing.

“T-tomorrow?” I choke out, my voice barely a whisper.

“Did you think you’d get to play house forever? It’s time to come home, where you belong.”Malfor’s cruel laughter echoes through the phone.“I can’t wait to see you again. I bet you’re excited to come home to me, aren’t you?”

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