Page 29 of Kill, Sleep, Repeat: Vol II

Charlotte eyes me for a long moment, then turns away, heading toward the safe hidden behind the bookshelf. “It’s a bit too late for that.”

I watch her, my jaw tight, my fists still clenched. She doesn’t see me as her daughter. Not really. To her, I’m just another tool. And tools that don’t work get thrown away.

The thought settles in my chest like a stone, heavy and unshakable. I’ve always known that failure isn’t an option. But tonight, it feels like the margin for error is thinner than ever.

As she opens the safe, I make a silent promise to myself: I’ll handle this. The cameras, Lily, everything. Not for Mom, but for me. Because if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that the only person I can rely on is myself.

She closes the safe and turns back to me, her expression unreadable. “Get out,” she says. “Before I say or do something I regret.”

I nod, forcing my legs to move toward the door. But as I step into the hallway, I can’t shake the feeling that no matter what I do, it won’t be enough. Not for her. Not for the agency. Not for anyone.

And maybe, just maybe, that’s the point.

24

CHARLOTTE

Iadjust the auburn wig just so, then pop the brown contacts in, apply a heap of mascara, and attach the fake nose. When I check my reflection in the mirror, I can’t help but smile. I hardly recognize myself.

My phone buzzes on the counter, wiping the smile off my face.Carlo. I leave it for later. For after. When the job is done.

Speaking of, I don’t know how to thank Carlo. All I can say is that I really owe him one. I’m not sure why it surprises me. I figured I’d have to singlehandedly clean up Sophie’s mess at that club, but then I realized the agency has people for that. Not that this means either of us, Sophie nor I, are going to make it out of this alive. That still remains to be seen. But, thanks to Carlo, at least Sophie’s not going to prison. Not tonight, anyway.

When I thanked him, he acted like it was nothing, and that made me think that maybe he’s right. Maybe it is nothing. Maybe I need to give a little more grace. Sophie wasn’t wrong in what she did; I’m even a little, dare I say…proud. But the way she went about it, well, that was not good. So she’s not exactly pulling her weight? She’s young, she’s still figuring it out, and maybe I’ve been a little hard on her. I’ve decided tonight, it’s different. Tonight, I’m not babysitting her. I’m giving her a second chance. I’m training her.

We’re headed to Manhattan for a reason—there’s a job to do. A target to eliminate. Someone from the list. Not a friend, but a business associate. He’s been meddling in things that don’t concern him, and now it’s his turn to go. We’ve tracked him down, and I’ve been watching him for long enough. He’ll be dealt with before morning.

I step out of the bathroom. The heels of my boots echo against the floor, sharp and hollow. Sophie’s sitting at the window, staring out into the city, her body slumped like she’s waiting for some kind of answer that’ll never come. She doesn’t look at me when I walk in, but she doesn’t have to. I’m not surprised. She’s been avoiding me more and more lately. She’s been doing that for days now.

“Ready?” I ask, my voice cutting through the silence. It’s a loaded question, and she knows it. I don’t need to say more.

She nods, but it’s not enough. “Yeah.”

Her voice is too soft, too hesitant. I step closer, just enough so she has no choice but to turn around and look at me. “Don’t fuck this up, Sophie. Just for once, I’d really appreciate not being let down.”

She swallows hard, but doesn’t flinch. She’s learning. Slowly, but she’s getting there. I’ll give her that much. “I look stupid.”

“You look fine,” I say noting her long black wig, fake chin, and the fat suit that adds thirty pounds to her tiny frame.

“I can’t walk in this.”

“You’ll manage.”

“It’s hot, I’m burning up and I’m pretty sure my chin is going to fall off before we even hail a cab.”

“You’re right,” I say pulling some adhesive from my bag. “That humidity is a killer.”

I slather it on and then turn on my heel and head for the door. “There. Now, let’s go.”

I don’t check to see if she’s following. I don’t need to. She doesn’t have a choice.

25

CHARLOTTE

The streets of New York are darker tonight. There’s no moon out, but neon signs stretch across the city like jagged streaks of light, throwing sharp, garish colors across the concrete. There’s still movement, a few people here, a few more there. But none of them matter. Only the one we’re after does.

We reach the address. The building is impressive. It’s clean, functional, and far too sterile for its own good. The kind of place where people try to blend in. Try to seem ordinary. I slip inside without a sound, moving past the concierge like I own the place. Sophie sticks close behind, but I can feel the unease radiating off her. Her shoulders are tight, her eyes flicking nervously. She’s expecting something to happen. I can see it, but I don’t say anything. I can’t—she has to figure it out for herself.

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