by Fiona Keane
“So,” I cleared my throat. “We have to put that conversation on pause…I guess…”
“Right.” Soph’s head fell against my bicep. “Do we just go in? Do you know who we’re meeting with?”
“Nathaniel Miller.” I looked at the names listed next to the intercom, my finger scrolling along the mailboxes.
“This seems really dangerous. How do you know we can trust this Miller guy? We couldn’t even trust my own uncle.”
“Or mine.” I laughed at the thought, humored by the irony.
I felt a small purr of humor vibrate against my side as Soph tightened her hold around my body. Nathaniel Miller’s name was near the bottom of the list and, when my finger contacted the buzzer, I was filled with a new sense of fear. It was grief. I felt paralyzed.
“Jameson?”
“I…”
“What’s wrong?”
“This is it, Soph…I…”
She wiggled from beneath me, lifting her hand to my finger and pressing it against the intercom button. “We.”
I was in awe, staring down at her, when a voice called from the speaker.
“Hello?”
“Uh…hi…I was given your address by Hart.”
I could feel Soph’s eyes on me the instant Olivia’s last name slipped from my lips, but I was unable to return her glance. I knew the worry in her mind had now doubled. The door buzzed open and I reached for it, feeling Soph’s vacancy at my side.
“Come with me,” I mumbled, holding my left hand out toward her. Soph’s arms were crossed, her face contorted with utter confusion.
“Olivia?” She swallowed.
“She doesn’t know.” My head shook, filling with guilt. “Her dad. He’s helping us.”
“That’s a twisted form of betrayal, Jameson,” she scolded, ignoring my hand and walking past me into the building. I followed her, neither of us knowing where to go.
“Soph, listen to me. I couldn’t tell Olivia we were going. She’s going to be heartbroken either way.”
“She was the closest thing either of us had to a best friend and not only are we abandoning her, we’re using her father’s help.”
“This is the stuff her dad does, Soph. These people that know Thomas…they’re all in that DOJ, legal, espionage shit. I’ve overheard way too much and can put together their secrets. I knew who to call to help us. I feel terrible that it is Olivia’s dad, but Soph…”
“I understand.” Her response was quick. “But don’t think for a second that I won’t be filled with even more guilt than I was before.”
I felt my eyes narrow toward her, unsure of where her mind and heart wrestled.
“If you regret coming with me, Soph, you need to say so right now. If you can’t live with that guilt for a small period of time, this isn’t right.”
“That’s not what I’m saying, and you know that isn’t an option. We’re in this. We’re running together, but the reminder of leaving Olivia alone and wondering where in the world I am because her dad helped us, that hurts me more than leaving Jules.”
“It’s now or never,” I continued, feeling my heart pump frantically inside of me. “I need to hear you say it, Soph.”
“This is happening.” Her blue eyes glowered into mine, her authority weakening my resolve. “I’m not going back there. I’m not going to risk losing the man I love. Are you nuts?”
“Yes.” I laughed, finally able to smile at her. Soph’s eyes rolled and she stepped aside, studying a wall of unit numbers until she found Nathaniel Miller’s.
“Third floor,” she grumbled, walking ahead of me. “Unit seven.”
She was still upset with me, as though I was personally responsible for hurting Olivia. I guess I was, but Soph had to know it was for the best. Besides, she was incredibly adorable when irritated with me.
We stepped through the second set of glass doors, meeting a black and white marbled floor with a wide staircase and no elevator. I mounted the steps behind Soph, reaching for her hand as she climbed to the third floor before me.
“You’re cute from this angle,” I whispered, biting my bottom lip to prevent the boisterous laugh that threatened.
Her eyes were dangerously wide once she turned around to scold me, her hand held inches from my face in a warning.
Unit seven was three doors down the hall from the top of the staircase. Already inside the building, there was no turning back from meeting Mr. Miller, so I knocked twice on the hardwood door. It flung open before my hand could attempt a third knock.
“Hello,” a petite, middle-aged woman greeted us. “Please, come in.”
“Uh…” My hands wrapped nervously around the back of my neck. “We’re here for Nathaniel Miller.”
“And I told you to come in,” she repeated, further opening the door for our entry.
I looked down at Soph, her blue eyes wild with trepidation, and pulled her into the apartment with me. This was it. The woman guided us through a narrow foyer that opened into a dark room lit by flashing lights from the noisy city outside. The room was filled by a long wooden dining table with eight accompanying chairs, all vacant, but for two. One contained the woman who greeted us, and the other contained a man who was probably just ten years older than us.
“Hello.” The man nodded, a polite smile flashing across his stubbly face. “You must be the kids from the land of the alligators.”
He lifted from his seat, reaching a hand out for both of us to shake. Soph was frozen, adhered to my side like a child while this man’s hand floated in the air before her.
“Soph,” I whispered beneath my breath.
“It’s fine,” he assured me, his hand returning to his side. “This is a big thing to acclimate oneself to.” He smiled kindly at Soph, her muscles refusing to soften at my side. “You can call me Toby.”
“We’re supposed to meet with Nathaniel,” I informed him, watching his smile return.
“That’s me,” the woman said from his side. “You can call me Matilda. Nathaniel is just the name we have on the lease. Keeps things simpler for us.”
This is confusing. Messed up. Please let this be the right thing to do. Please. Please. She motioned for Soph and I to take a seat at their table, both of them returning to their seats as well. Toby opened a laptop, beginning to click and type while Matilda spoke to us.
“I’ve known Hart longer than you’ve been alive. Old friends, we are.” She smiled nostalgically. “We’ve done a lot of work together. Dear, you needn’t be frightened. This is a good thing. We’re going to make you who you need to be so you can be safe.” Matilda’s head tilted while she spoke to the nervous beauty at my side.
“Names?” Toby inquired, interrupting Matilda’s soft exchange.
“Jameson Burke and Sophia Reid,” I replied, turning my head to Soph. She was resting against my arm again, her fingers digging into my skin. My school bag was safely on my lap, a reminder of just how feisty and courageous Soph could be.
“Soph…” My head bent so only she could hear my whisper. “I love you. It will be okay.”
“Sophia Reid and Jameson Burke. Do you want to die together or separately?” Matilda’s eyes scanned both of ours expectantly, as though this question was more than common for her to ask.
“I’m sorry.” Soph’s head shook. “What?”
“We can erase your old identities a few ways. You can go missing, you can disappear, or, and this is probably the safest, you can die.”
Soph looked at me, her eyes full of terrified confusion.
“I don’t want to…to die…” she said, blue burning into me. “Do we have to…die?”
I squeezed her fists into my palms and nodded, knowing from Gabriel’s experience that death was the only way to begin anew. Ironically. Death, in some form, brought Soph and I new lives in which we found one another. Now, death was ensuring our lives would continue. Together.
CHAPTER FOUR
Sophia
I had imagined my death a million times. I
had seen it; I almost drowned in the marina last week. Last week. That felt like a lifetime ago. My mom was there, calling me to her while I slowly drifted into the afterlife, longing for her embrace. But Jameson saved me.
With closed eyes, I could taste the water as it poured into my lungs beneath the violent waves of the hurricane. I knew what it felt like to die. It was dangerously peaceful.
Sophia Reid was dying. I had to accept that. This beautiful farce was the only way Jameson and I could be safe. My head was pressed against Jameson’s arm, unable to listen, let alone fathom, the exchange between everyone else at the table. Part of my mind shut down, only able to control involuntary functions—breathing, circulation, existence. I refused to participate in my death, no matter how artificial the event was.
“Babe,” Jameson whispered the unfamiliar endearment above my head, “let’s get you some sleep.”
“Wha…” I lifted from his side, glancing at the table.
Toby and Matilda were smiling at me, politely rewarding my anxiety with their friendly expressions. She was sitting against the table, her thin fingers wrapping around the edge on each side of her narrow hips. Toby was typing, but watching me.
“Is it…done?”
Matilda shook her head. “Not yet. Sweetheart, why don’t you let him take you to your hotel? You can get settled while he finishes things.”
“I don’t want to be alone.” That was a lie. Right now, I didn’t even want to be with myself.
“Toby…” Matilda cleared her throat. “Give me a phone.”
Her smiling gaze returned to mine, patiently waiting for Toby to pull a small phone from a fabric envelope on the floor. Jameson took the brief pause to glide from his chair and squat beneath me against the floor. His eyes were so brilliant, full of worry and promise, perfectly reflecting my heart.
“Soph.” His right fingers grazed my cheek before his palm cupped my skin. “I’ll get everything together. I’ll figure out what will happen to the old us. You need sleep.”
I looked up at the distraction in my periphery, noticing Matilda had stood from the table and was adjusting the length of her black leather pencil skirt. She motioned for me, nodding her head toward the doorway at our side.
“May I please just do one more thing before we’re officially dead?” I swallowed the word, looking away from Jameson. “Before you finalize whatever…”
“I was planning on that.” Matilda read my mind and stepped closer, placing her hand on my shoulder. I watched Jameson’s eyes scour the length of her arm as it stretched between us.
“I’ll just keep her a moment,” Matilda whispered to Jameson, attempting to ease his worry.
I knew better; he might appear suave and together on the outside, but the second I stepped away from him in that den of iniquity, his frantic mind would be plagued with concern.
“I’ll be right back,” I told him, knowing we both had something to do in that moment.
I let Matilda guide me from the chair and followed her into a small bedroom just off the dining room. The bed was plush, covered with soft green and white throw pillows. I was standing in the center of the room while Matilda closed the door. Her heeled feet crept along the hardwood floor until she stood before me, the cell phone in her hands.
“I’ve been exactly where you are, Sophia.” Her words were soft. “Toby and I met by chance. He was helping me escape a violent relationship.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be.” She smiled at me, her brown eyes sparkling. “I love my life now. When Jennifer Moretti died in a plane crash, Matilda Fischer’s life began.”
“A plane crash?” My throat struggled to swallow, imagining how Jameson and Toby would create our demise just feet away from me.
“Toby has remarkable connections, Sophia. He was able to get into airline databases and add Jennifer Moretti’s name to the manifest of a crashed plane before the crash even went to the media. And that,” she shrugged, pride on her face, “is how I started over. Now, it’s your turn.”
“Yeah.” I shivered, my arms tightening around my chest.
Matilda was so confident, so comfortable with the secrets she just bestowed upon me. It was incredibly intimidating. My mind flashed back to the agony swirling around Jameson while he told me his story, the life and death of Gabriel.
“But first…” She nodded solemnly, handing me the phone. “I know you need to say goodbye. Go on.” She sensed my hesitance. “Nobody can track this. It’s already untraceable, but still rerouted from towers that send its signal all the way to Singapore. Please do what I couldn’t do, Sophia. Say goodbye to whoever it is you’re leaving.”
My eyes followed her hands, watching as she placed the phone on the soft mattress and retreated, closing the wooden door behind her. I listened for her footsteps, the distance between us growing.
Turning to the bed, the phone taunted me. I climbed onto the mattress, studying the small rectangle of plastic and glass. Was this a trick? Would Simon find us? No. If Olivia’s dad sent us there, it had to be safe. I had to trust these people. I needed to say goodbye. This was a chance I would regret not taking. I needed this closure or my heart would forever overthink. Picking it up and dialing the familiar number, I waited for the worried girl to answer her phone.
“…You’ve reached Liv! Please leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can. Thanks!”
Crap. I didn’t think the smartest thing would be leaving a message. That would prove we weren’t dead. I called again. By the fourth time, Olivia finally answered.
“I’m not interested in taking a survey, I’ve already found Jesus, and I’m not late on any bill―” I loved her. This was too hard.
“Olivia,” sobs were already threatening to cut off my words, “It’s So—”
“Sophia,” she cried. “Oh my God. Are you okay? Sophski. I’ve been going crazy looking for you. Everyone has. Where are you? Are you okay? Is Jameson okay? Is he…has he hurt you in any way? Sophia, tell me.”
“I only have a second. He’s fine. We’re safe. I’m…I’m calling to say goodbye.”
“Goodbye? No. Stop. What the heck is going on?”
My fingers were trembling, already drained of blood and shaking violently while tears overwhelmed my eyes.
“I…I don’t know how to say this…or what I can even say…someday, I hope, I’ll be able to tell you…but we…”
“I get it,” she whispered. “There was always something different about both of you. I think that’s why I loved you two so much. You have something to run from, right?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll always love you guys.”
“I’ll…” my throat caught; this was harder than I thought, “…thank you, Olivia. For everything you did for me. You took me in and helped me learn to live again, and for that…I’ll always love you too.”
“You know where to find me…if you ever can. You tell him to care for you the way you should be cared for. You don’t let him screw you over again. I’ll track him down somehow and cut off his balls. You tell him that.”
Her tears paused for a giggle, the sweet sound of my best friend. I was nodding, unable to respond with words.
“Goodbye, Olivia.”
“Goodbye, Sophski.” Click.
One more call and I would be able to grieve Sophia Reid.
CHAPTER FIVE
Jameson
I knocked lightly on the door, listening to Soph’s muffled sobs from the other side. I hated hearing her cry with a barrier between us. I turned the knob, impatiently foregoing any sense of privacy or respect, and saw her curled on the mattress. I needed to be with her.
“Soph?”
“Yeah. Sorry.”
“What’s going on?”
“Nothing.”
“Soph.”
I sat on the mattress, lifting her right arm from her damp face and wiping away some tears with the pad of my thumb. She was holding Matilda’s phone in her hand and her eyes were
fluttering everywhere but on me.
“It’s okay that you called, Soph,” I assured her, despite my worry. “Jules deserves that closure.”
“I didn’t call her,” she whimpered. “I called Olivia. She said…if she ever finds you, you’re losing your manhood.” What was it with that girl and my junk lately?
“That sounds just like Olivia,” I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “Are you going to call your aunt, Soph?”
“Are we dead yet?”
I laughed at her words, uncomfortable with the idea. “Almost.”
Soph rolled onto her back, holding my hand between hers as they rested against her heart. I could feel the frantic, terrified throb of her pulse.
“Almost? What’s left?”
I shivered while her fingers crept along my forearms, goosebumps dancing along my skin. She was so perfect in that moment, lying beneath me, entirely aware and yet so unadulterated and peaceful. I leaned forward, softly pressing my lips against hers and sighing as the pain of our decision left my heart once she returned my affection.
“I just need to pay them,” I informed her, slowly pulling away from her warmth. “I’m going to take you to the hotel for the night. I’ll be right there. I promise.”
“I’m worried about you alone. We still don’t know these people, Jameson, and what if…do we need to be apart?”
“No, but…” I shook my head. “You need sleep and I want nothing more than to walk into our hotel room and see that you’ve long since passed out, so when the sun is up in the morning, we can begin anew together. We can start over having actually slept off the past. Sound reasonable? Oh, and I love you.”
Her lips spread into a smile, melting my ego. “I love you too.”
I climbed from the bed, my bones realizing how much they ached for sleep while my feet hit the floor. I reached for Soph, helping her back onto the floor. She adjusted the way her shirt hugged her body and yawned, her nose tightly scrunching.
