Chapter 13: Sophia Tells It Herself
The first thing Sophia did when she woke was try to pull her hand away from the nurse.
Her eyes opened to a blur of white ceiling, then tightened shut. The monitor beside her bed quickened its beeping.
“Easy,” the doctor said. “You’re at St. Matthew’s. You’re safe.”
I was already on my feet. I wanted to reach for her, but her fingers were curled against the blanket, and I couldn’t tell whether my touch would comfort her or frighten her.
“Sophia,” I said.
Her eyes found me. Confusion gave way to recognition. Her mouth moved, but no sound came out.
The doctor adjusted something near her arm. “Don’t force your voice. You’ve been through a serious injury. You can take your time.”
Sophia swallowed. Her gaze stayed on me.
“Did you tell them?” she rasped.
“Tell them what?”
“Don’t.” The word came out thin, but she held my eyes. “Don’t answer for me.”
My throat closed.
“I won’t.”
She looked at the doctor.
“Can I talk?”
“Briefly,” he said. “And you stop if you feel faint or in pain.”
Sophia nodded, then looked at me again.
“Not just you,” she whispered. “I want Detective Ruiz.”
The doctor glanced at me, perhaps expecting me to decide whether that was wise. I kept my hands at my sides.
“That’s your choice,” I said.
“Then ask her to come.”
When Ruiz stepped into the room, Sophia’s breathing had steadied, though each breath still seemed to cost her something. Ruiz stood where Sophia could see her without turning her head.
“You don’t have to do this now,” she said.
“I know.” Sophia paused, collecting herself. “I want to.”
I moved to the side of the bed. There was nothing I could fix by standing closer. Nothing I could protect her from by speaking first.
Sophia studied the blanket over her body. Her thumb found the small scratch on her silver bracelet.
“I found the guarantees in Dad’s papers,” she said. “The ones with my name on them. I told him I hadn’t signed them.”
Her voice faltered. The doctor moved nearer, but Sophia lifted her free hand a fraction.
“Give me a minute.”
He stopped.
“I asked him how long he’d been doing it. He said he was going to explain. He kept saying the business was in trouble, that he was trying to save it. I told him that wasn’t an answer.”
Her brow creased as if she were looking past the room, back to the kitchen.
“I told him I’d found the ledger. I was going to take it to the police.”
The heart monitor ticked quickly. I focused on her face and not the numbers.
“Then Dean came in,” she continued. “He wanted the ledger. He said I didn’t understand what I was holding.”
A pause. Her fingers pressed hard against the sheet.
“I told him I understood enough.”
No one spoke. Ruiz waited. I did too.
“He grabbed for me. I tried to get past him.” Sophia’s eyes shone, but her voice stayed hers. “He hit me. I went down. I remember the floor. Then I remember my father saying my name.”
She shut her eyes. I felt the old impulse rise in me: to tell her she didn’t have to continue, to make the memory smaller by interrupting it. I swallowed the words.
When she opened her eyes again, she looked at Ruiz.
“Dean Mercer hit me. He hurt me in my house.”
Ruiz gave a small nod. “I hear you.”
“My dad was there.” Sophia’s gaze shifted to me. “He helped them take me out.”
The room seemed to draw tight around the bed.
“Did he call for help?” Ruiz asked.
Sophia shook her head, a tiny movement that made her wince.
“He said we needed to get out of there. I heard him talking about the alley. About what he’d tell people.” She took a shallow breath. “He didn’t call for help. He helped make it look like I’d been attacked somewhere else.”
My jaw clenched. The muscles in my wrapped forearm pulled tight.
Sophia noticed.
“Don’t,” she whispered.
I let my hand fall open.
“I’m listening.”
She turned back to Ruiz. “I was in the van. I remember voices. My father said the alley was far enough away. I couldn’t keep my eyes open.”
Ruiz didn’t look away from her. “Did you see anyone else?”
“No. I didn’t see who drove. I heard my father.” She paused, working through each breath. “I know he helped carry me. I know he lied instead of getting me help.”
“That’s enough for now,” the doctor said gently.
Sophia nodded. Ruiz took a step back, not toward the door but out of Sophia’s line of sight.
“I’ll write down what you’ve told me,” Ruiz said. “And I’ll come back when you want.”
Sophia gave the smallest nod. The choice, even that small one, belonged to her.
After the doctor checked her again, he asked us to give her a few minutes of quiet. Ruiz left. I stayed beside the bed, afraid even the scrape of a chair might be too much.
Sophia watched the bandage around my forearm.
“You got hurt.”
“It’s a cut. They cleaned it.”
“You were at the shop?”
“Yes.”
“Because of the ledger?”
“Yes.”
She looked away.
“I’m sorry,” I said. The words came too quickly, like another thing I wanted to fix. I slowed down. “I thought loving you meant getting between you and everything that could hurt you. I made choices for you, even when I meant well. I’m sorry.”
“You were trying to help.”
“I was trying to be the one who decided what help looked like.”
Her eyelids fluttered. She was exhausted, but she was still listening.
“I don’t want you to rescue me,” she whispered.
“I understand.”
“I don’t need you to be silent either.” She drew a careful breath. “Just stand beside me. Let me say what happened.”
I reached toward her hand, then stopped before touching it.
“Can I?”
She turned her palm upward.
I laid my fingers against hers without closing my grip. Her hand trembled. So did mine.
“I’m here,” I said.
“I know.” Her thumb moved over the bracelet’s worn scratch. “That doesn’t mean I’m ready to go home.”
“I know.”
“I’ll decide when I’m ready.”
“You will.”
Her gaze drifted toward the window. Late light rested on the glass, pale and colorless.
“Those lilies,” she murmured.
The flowers I had bought to surprise her. I had set them down in the wrecked house and forgotten them in the horror that followed.
“They’re still at home,” I said. “I’ll bring them to you.”
“When I’m discharged.” Her eyes returned to mine. “Bring them home with me. When I’m ready to go.”
“I will.”
May you like
She let her eyes close, her fingers still resting beneath mine.
This time, I didn’t mistake her quiet for a decision I could make on her behalf. I stayed beside her and waited for her to choose what came next.
