Page 46 of Take the Sub and Run

Andrei made a slow loop of the room, stopping to peer at the jar of lupus lazuli chunks, then again to study the soldering iron and bits of metal strewn across the long work counter, leftover from creating the pearl necklace.

Finally he studied her computer setup, and Sofie hid a wince. It was, perhaps, the most incriminating part of her studio, though everything could be explained away if necessary. Her father had made sure of that.

When Andrei didn’t move or speak, she took several steps toward him, though she wasn’t sure what she was going to do or say.

Her monitor caught her eye, because there was a message displayed on the screen, white text on black.

* * *

Sofie,

Je stelt me teleur. Je weet dat het niet veilig is om je studio te verlaten. Ik had beter verwacht. Er zullen consequenties zijn.

- Vader

* * *

Sofie’s stomach knotted, and she pressed a hand to it. She checked Andrei’s face, but he seemed to be studying the portable X-ray. The message was in Dutch, not English, so Andrei probably wouldn’t understand it. And even if he did, the message, like so many things in Sofie’s life, could be explained away. Made to seem like something other than what it was.

The silence stretched, and though she was used to silence, she was used to silence when she was alone. This silence with another person was unbearable.

“Andrei—”

“You’re a forger.” Andrei turned to face her, and he was smiling. “You’re Colette’s forger.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“You have an X-ray machine.”

Sofie shrugged. “I do.”

“No one but forgers need to X-ray paintings.”

“That’s not true. Auction houses, museums?—”

“You are neither of those.”

“—restorationists,” she said louder.

“And are you? A restorationist?”

“I have done restoration work.”

Andrei let out a hard laugh. “I knew I should have arrested you.”

“For what?” Sofie spread her hands. “You have nothing.”

Andrei’s gaze hardened and then slid down her body. It wasn’t until he licked his lower lip that she felt the shift, and her body started to heat.

“I had something,” he said, but it was almost to himself. “Or at least I thought I did.”

Sofie didn’t know how to answer that, but she understood it. The sense of loss was there, buried under her embarrassment. Loss of what could have been, had she been truthful.

But it never would have been, because he would never have touched her if he knew how innocent she was.

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