Chapter 2

Preston hasn't come home in three days. He's too busy winning Sophie's case.

I texted him this morning. Told him I was going to the county office to close out Dad's accounts. Asked if he could come.

His reply: "Working. Handle it yourself."

I stare at the screen. Nothing moves in me anymore.

That afternoon, I stop by HR to drop off my final paperwork. On my way out, I pass the coffee room. And I stop.

Sophie is standing at the espresso machine.

White sundress. Big innocent eyes. Looks like she couldn't hurt a fly.

She sees me. Her eyes well up instantly. She grabs a paper cup of water and floats over.

"Nina, I'm so, so sorry for your loss…"

She bites her lower lip. Her voice is all soft and shaky, like she's on the verge of falling apart.

"The night your dad passed… I've felt so guilty. I really have."

"See, my pipes burst that night. The power went out too. And you know me — I'm scared of the dark. I panicked."

"So I called Pres. I swear I just wanted him to send a plumber."

She lifts those doe eyes, tears glittering.

"I never thought he'd freak out and drive over. He stayed with me the whole night…"

She tugs at my sleeve, sniffling.

"Please, please don't be mad at him. It's all my fault."

I stare at her.

Something rips open in my chest. I can taste blood in my throat.

So that's what happened.

While my father was coding in the ER — no lawyer, no chance — while I was calling Preston's phone over and over and getting that dead robotic voicemail —

Preston had turned off his phone. Because Sophie was "scared of the dark."

That's his precious "I don't represent family" line.

That's his "I stand above it all" bullshit.

I look at Sophie's trembling little chin. And underneath it — that tiny gleam of triumph she can't hide.

Old me? I would've slapped her into next week.

New me digs her nails into her own palm until they nearly break skin.

I breathe in slow. Slide my hand into my pocket. Press the record button on the little pen I've been carrying.

"Your pipes burst?" My voice is dead calm. "Really?"

Sophie blinks. She wasn't expecting calm.

Then she cranks it up. Drops to her knees on the tile.

"Nina, I know you hate me. Hit me, scream at me, whatever. Just don't let this ruin you and Pres…"

The door swings open.

Preston strides in, holding a stack of copies.

He sees Sophie on the floor. His face goes white. He rushes over and pulls her up.

"Baby, what happened?"

Sophie melts into his chest, shaking her head.

"Pres, don't blame Nina. I just lost my balance…"

His head snaps up. He looks at me like I'm garbage.

"Nina. What is your problem?"

"I told you I'm slammed. And you come here to bully Sophie? Grow up."

I don't defend myself. I don't cry. I just look at him. Like he's a stranger on the subway.

"Preston." My voice is flat. Empty. "Relax. I'm done making scenes."

I walk past them. Straight out the front door.

The second I turn the corner, I hit save on the recorder in my pocket.

I go back to the apartment we've shared for three years.

I take my clothes out of the closet. My skincare off the counter. Even the matching mugs I bought us.

One by one. Into the suitcase. Out the door.

Every trace of Nina Sinclair — gone from that apartment.

All that's left is an empty bed. And a woman about to leave.

Two days until my flight to New York.