Page 27 of Kill, Sleep, Repeat: Vol II

There she was, like a magnet for trouble. I watched her with the same curiosity I’d reserve for a beautiful, helpless animal. The lights, the music, the bodies pressing in from all sides—thiswas her element, the kind of chaos she thrives in. But when it went sideways, when it turned intothatkind of chaos—thatkind of mess—I knew I had to act fast.

The thing is, I’ve learned how to cover my tracks. This isn’t my first time at the rodeo. You don’t get away with beingmewithout having a plan B, C, D, and E. As Sophie stepped outside, looking like she hadn’t just buried a body, like she wasn’t on the edge of whatever hell she was about to drag herself into, I knew what had to happen next. Charlotte really wouldn’t be happy if her perfect little life fell apart that easy, and what can I say? I happened to be in a decent mood and leaning more toward the fuck than the kill end of the spectrum at that particular moment in time.

So I moved through the crowd withoutanyone noticing. They were all too busy drinking, too busy getting lost in the noise of the night. I didn’t care about them. I cared about Sophie—and what she might have left behind.

The club, as it turned out, had a littletoomany cameras. Not that I couldn’t handle it. I’d planned for this. As soon as I saw what Sophie had done, I took action. I made some phone calls, called in people who’d know exactly what to do and how to do it.

Why? I can’t say. Maybe it’s because I couldn’t blame her for what she’d done, evenifshe made a terrible mistake in the way she went about it. So she’s an amateur? Who can blame her for that? We all start somewhere.

I didn’t know if I’d be able to get to her in time, but that’s where the fun begins, doesn’t it? As she made her exit, I was already two steps ahead, watching from a dark corner. She never even noticed. She couldn’t, not with everything spinning around her like that.

If there’s one thing I’ve learned from Charlotte—and her daughters—it’s that you don’t let things just happen. You control them. They may think they’re running the show, but they’re wrong. They always are.

23

SOPHIE

Mom’s apartment is quiet—too quiet—like the walls are listening. I’m curled up in the corner, knees drawn to my chest, arms wrapped around them like I can hold everything in if I just keep still enough. The darkness in here doesn’t feel like it’s part of the room; it feels like it’s inside me, settling in my bones, a cold weight that makes it harder to think. My phone’s beside me, buzzing in the silence, but I don’t move to check it. I don’t need to. I know who it is.Malik.

I don’t know what I’d even say, or what I’m supposed to do next. So I stay frozen, waiting for something—anything—to snap me out of this.

But nothing does. My mind just keeps going back.

Lily. The murder. The blood.

I still can’t shake the image of him, his blood pooling on the floor, his face distorted with confusion and pain. It wasn’t supposed to go this way. I was supposed to make the connections I needed to get into the afterparty, slip in unnoticed, do the job, and get out. But Lily...she tagged along, and that’s where everything fell apart.

The lock clicks, and my heart jumps into my throat. Mom is going to kill me. I push myself to my feet just as the door swings open.

Mom steps inside, her silhouette sharp and commanding. For a moment, she feels me, but doesn’t see me. Then, when her eyes find mine, everything freezes. Her hand twitches at her side, moving like she's about to pull a weapon.

“Mom, it’s me,” I say quickly, my voice strained. “Don’t?—”

Her hand freezes mid-motion, her eyes narrowing, scanning me like I’m some kind of threat. A flicker of recognition, then something colder. A tension I can feel across the room.

“What the hell are you doing here?” she demands, stepping further inside. “Why aren’t you at the dorm?”

I stand up, smoothing out my dress, trying to seem composed. “I needed to talk to you,” I say, my voice steady but my nerves on fire.

Her gaze sharpens, piercing through me like she’s trying to find the hole in my story. “At four in the morning?”

I hesitate, just a moment too long. Then I force the words out. “I couldn’t sleep. I thought...maybe we could strategize. About what I saw at The Raven.”

The way she looks at me makes me feel like I’m the most transparent person in the world. She knows it’s a lie, but she lets it hang in the air.

She takes a step closer, narrowing her eyes, her voice cutting through the silence. “Strategize?” she repeats, almost mocking. “What happened tonight, Sophie?”

She pinches the bridge of her nose, and I take notice of how her spine straightens. “Tell me everything. Start from the beginning, don’t leave anything out.”

I keep my face neutral, showing her nothing. Not this time.

“I’ll handle it,” I say, the words tasting like metal. “The cameras, the cleanup, everything.”

Mom steps closer again, her eyes never leaving mine. “You’ll handlewhat?” she sneers. “Goddamn it, spell it out.”

“I went to The Raven tonight. To make the connections, get into the afterparty. I thought it would give us the leverage we need. But Lily...she tagged along.”

“Lily?” She looks at me like I’ve just grown two heads. “Your roommate?”

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