Page 67 of A Pawn in the Game
Her head draws back. “I’m sorry.”
“Thank you.”
Losing my mother made a hole in my heart I haven’t managed to fill. Even though I never met her, let alone watchedher die a violent death in front of my very eyes. How did Sophie survive?
I take her rook with my bishop and ask a question that’s been plaguing my mind since I broke into her apartment. “You and your dad aren’t close?”
The scrunch of her nose relaxes with surprise. “That’s an understatement,” she huffs. “I had to stay with him until I turned eighteen, but I got out as soon as I could.”
I inhale deeply, calming myself for my next question. “Was he… was he bad to you?”
She shoots me a smile, but her eyes are down turned. “I was a total daddy’s girl growing up. We used to play chess for hours.” I remember her telling me that. “He was super smart. And I wanted to absorb everything he could teach me.” She looks down, only to checkmate me with her queen. “Turns out I knew nothing about him. I had no idea he was involved in anything remotely dangerous. He was an accountant, for fuck’s sake. After Mom’s murder, he tried to talk to me a couple of times, but I wasn’t interested in anything he had to say. He might have not been the one to pull the trigger, but he was the one responsible for her death.” I swallow, knowing exactly what she means. “I think he saw I needed help, but it’s not like he could have taken me to a therapist without exposing what he was involved in.” She places the pieces back into the starting position, so I do the same. “I haven’t spoken to him since I left. So I don’t think you’re going to get what you’re hoping for. I doubt he’ll sacrifice himself for me.” She looks around the room and my chest tightens.
How could anyone not do her best not to save her?
“But you got out? Started a career and everything?”
“Yeah.” This time, her smile is a little less sad. “I finished high school and college early, working my ass off just to get away from him. Funny thing, once I got away, I’ve gotten worse.”
“What do you mean?”
“I had a goal before that. To leave. And I put all my mental capacity into achieving that. Once I got out, I was lost.” Sheshrugs. “Everyday things like brushing my teeth or eating became hard. Leaving the house became impossible. That time, I saw a therapist. She gave me some medication, which helped, but once again, I couldn’t tell her the full story.”
She was scared. She still probably is.
“For the last ten years, it’s been an uphill battle with depression and anxiety. I read a million research articles about it and found some things that really helped.”
“Like exercising?”
“Yeah, like exercising. My dog, Alan, as well. He’s the one who saved me.” Her eyes turn glossy.
I clench my fist on the table, a knot forming in my stomach. “Alan is fine,” I mumble under my breath, unable to keep the words in.
“What?”
“Alan is taken care of,” I say, just slightly louder.
“How do you know?”
I connect my gaze with hers, trying to convey the message telepathically. “You’re just going to have to trust me on this.”
She stares at me for a second before dipping her head. “I trust you.”
The knot in my stomach unravels, its loose ends fluttering.
I want to tell her that Alan is happy. I want to tell her he made a great new friend, and they haven’t let me enter my apartment in peace ever since. But I don’t want to give away too much. Because the more time passes, the more I realize she’s my soft spot. And if that information came into the wrong hands, it would put her in serious danger.
If I stay, I’ll tell her. I can’t look at her gorgeous eyes wet with tears and not try to make it better. I need to leave.
Taking the phone out of my pocket, I pretend there’s an emergency I need to take care of. I text Ivan to get down here immediately.
“Sorry, I have to go,” I say, getting up from the chair.
“Could you tell me what time it is?” she asks, stopping me in place.
“Yeah, sure. It’s 4:15.” My brows narrow.
“Thank you.” Her eyes lift like I did something special.
