Page 28 of Kill, Sleep, Repeat: Vol II

“That’s the one.” I see her eyes harden, but I push forward, unable to stop the words once they’ve started. “They drugged her, Mom. I didn’t know what was happening until we were in the VIP room, and one of the men...he was assaulting her.”

The words stick in my throat, and I can feel the weight of everything crashing down. It was supposed to be easy—get in, get the intel, and get out. But I saw the look in Lily’s eyes while they had her pinned down, and I couldn’t let them get away with it. Maybe I couldn’t kill them all, at least not right then. But I could take out the immediate threat.

“I dragged her out of the room as fast as I could. She wasn’t responding, not fully, and I didn’t know how much she remembered. But before I could get her out of there... that guy—he followed me. He... he grabbed me, pulled me into the men's room.”

I pause, the flash of violence rushing back. “I had no choice. I—I mean, he had me cornered. I had to make sure he couldn’t hurt anyone else.” I exhale sharply, my voice tight as I push through the words. “I killed him, Mom. In the bathroom stall. It was quick, but it wasn’t clean. The blood—it’s everywhere. It’s all going to fall apart if anyone connects me to it.”

She doesn’t say anything at first, just stands there, watching me with that cold, assessing look. My chest is tight, my breath shallow. This isn’t how it was supposed to go down. This wasn’t part of the plan. And then I remember the cameras. The damn cameras. The ones that are going to have picked up everything.

“There are cameras, Mom,” I continue, myvoice breaking. “A lot of witnesses. People sawme. I—I don’t know what to do. If they have footage of me, if someone talks...”

She shifts from foot to foot, steady and deliberate. I brace myself for her reaction, but she doesn’t seem angry. Not yet. She’s cold, calculating, always thinking. It’s what I’ve learned to expect from her.

“So,” she says, her voice low, “you went to The Raven to make connections, but you couldn’t keep your emotions in check. You let that man push you, and now we have this mess to clean up.”

I’m too raw, too scared to hide it. “I didn’tlethim. I did what I had to do. You’re the one always telling me not to hesitate. Well, this time I didn’t.”

Her eyes narrow. “You’re a liability, Sophie. You didn’t think this through. You didn’t plan for the cameras, for the witnesses. You didn’t even know how to control the situation.”

I swallow hard, not able to argue because she’s right. I should have been smarter. Should have known what could go wrong. But I didn’t. And now it’s my problem to fix.

She pinches the bridge of her nose. “Rule number eight: a clean job is a quiet job.”

“I know, Mom. I didn’t come here for a refresher on your rules.”

“Well, you’re getting one,” she says with a sigh. “Because you really fucked up.”

“I know.”

“Noise attracts attention. Attention gets you caught. And getting caught is for amateurs. That roommate of yours—she’s noise."

“I’ll handle the cleanup,” I say, sounding more sure of myself than I am. “I’ll get rid of the footage. Make sure no one talks. I’ll fix it.”

Her lips twitch, almost like she’s about to smile, but it’s not a kind smile. It’s the kind that makes my stomach turn. “You’llhandle it?” she says, her voice thick with disbelief. “You couldn’t even handle one man without making a mess. What makes you think you’re ready for cleanup?”

I don’t answer. There’s no point. She’s not looking for an explanation. She’s looking for an excuse to remind me of how badly I’ve failed.

“Let me guess,” she says, with another long drawn-out sigh. “This tough act you’re putting on…it’s all bullshit. Face it, Sophie—you’re here because you’re scared. You don’t know how to fix this, so you ran to Mommy to clean up your mess.”

I clench my fists, nails digging into my palms. “I’m not scared,” I say, the lie tasting bitter on my tongue. “I just thought?—”

“You didn’t think,” she cuts in. “That’s the problem. You don’t think. You act. You react. And now we’re in this mess because you couldn’t keep your emotions in check.”

Her words are sharp, deliberate, each one landing like a slap. But I don’t let them show. I can’t. If she senses any weakness at all, she’ll eat me alive.

“I’ll take care of Lily,” I say, shifting the focus. “She doesn’t remember much. They drugged her?—”

She cuts me off with a laugh, low and humorless. “You think that matters? Spotty memory or not, she’s a loose end. And you know we can’t have loose ends.”

My stomach twists. I knew this was coming, but hearing her say it out loud still makes my stomach sick. “She’s not a threat,” I say quickly. “I can make sure she doesn’t talk. I’ll?—”

“Stop.” Her voice is ice. “You’re not going to charm your way out of this, Sophie. If she becomes a problem, I’ll handle it—or the agency will. End of discussion.”

I want to argue, to tell her that Lily doesn’t deserve to die for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. But I know it won’t matter.

Charlotte doesn’t care about fairness or morality.She cares about control. She cares about keeping her hands clean. She cares about saving her own ass.

“I’ll make sure she’s not a problem,” I say instead. It’s not a promise I can keep, but I’m hoping it’s enough to make her back off. For now.

---