Sophia

The first thing I notice when I wake up is the faint smell of antiseptic in the air.

My body aches from the stress of the last few days, but it’s the sight of Laurel sitting by the window, a bandage wrapped around her arm, that forces me upright.

“What happened to you?” I ask, my voice still hoarse from sleep.

Laurel doesn’t turn around right away. Her shoulders are tense, and she’s staring out at the sky like it holds the answer to every problem we’ve faced. When she finally looks at me, her expression softens, but only slightly.

“It’s nothing,” she says, brushing it off as if the dark red stain blooming beneath the bandage doesn’t matter.

“It doesn’t look like nothing,” I say, narrowing my eyes.

“I’m fine, Sophia,” she says firmly, her tone making it clear the topic is closed. And there will be no further discussions. “What about you? How are you feeling?”

I hesitate, unsure how to answer. Laurel’s been through hell trying to protect me, and I know she’s not going to stop anytime soon. Her need to keep me safe is both infuriating and comforting.

I want to do what she did to me just now, I want to tell her I'm fine and that's that but somehow I need up softening.

“I’m... okay,” I say finally, though I’m not sure it’s entirely true. My body feels better after hours or days of rest. I was knocked out the whole time and I don't even know how long I've been asleep.

I somehow find the time to look around. The bedroom is small but warm, with soft, golden light spilling in through curtains that gently flutter in the breeze and are drawn apart.

The walls are painted a calming, shade of blue. A large, plush bed takes center stage where I'm currently laying in.

To the side, a wooden nightstand holds a lamp, a small vase of fresh flowers, and a well-worn paperback book.

The floor is covered in a thick, soft rug. A small armchair sits in the corner, on the wall above the bed hangs a framed print of a calm nature scene.

Everything about the space feels inviting, like a quiet retreat from the outside world. And it's so much better than that stupid cabin. I know memories of that night will always haunt me but this is a better getaway.

“What’s the plan now?”

Laurel lets out a heavy sigh, standing and stretching. “We’re lying low for a bit. I’ve got people back in Vegas keeping tabs on the cartel. They’re scrambling.”

My heart skips at the mention of the cartel. I know they’re looking for me, that I’m the reason Laurel keeps putting herself in danger.

And her arm is just more proof of that.

My mind scurries to Dana, is she doing okay?

“Scrambling how?”

“They’re desperate,” she says, her voice cold. “You were their golden goose, and now you’re gone. The chip’s been discarded, so they can’t track you anymore, but they’re turning Vegas inside out trying to find you.”

I swallow past the ball in my throat.

“And your sister? Any leads?”

“Not yet,” she admits, and for the first time, I see a crack in her armor. She looks tired—more tired than I’ve ever seen her.

“But we’re getting close. The people I’ve got on the ground are feeding me information. I just need a little more time.”

I nod.

"Oh, and by the way, your I crossed paths with your Aunt."

My heart skips a beat. "You did?"

She nods. "She shot me."

My stomach bubbles while it sinks. Someone I sort of care about shot someone I'm hundred percent sure I care about. If I'm to be asked which side I'm picking with a gun to my head? I'm a dead person.

A part of me is sad Laurel got shot because of me but another part is glad Dana is still okay. That means they cartel is not yet in her skin about this. I can only imagine the amount of torture they would put on her.

"I'm sorry," I whisper.

Laurel doesn't say a word, she just walks across the room to me and lays a gentle kiss in my forehead then my lips. As if that's going to make things right.

×××

The next few weeks pass in a haze of restless nights and cautious movements.

Laurel keeps us tucked away in a small guesthouse on the edge of a sleepy town, far from the chaos we left behind.

It’s the kind of place where time seems to stand still, where everyone knows everyone, and strangers are met with curious but friendly smiles.

Laurel spends most of her time on her laptop or pacing the room, her phone constantly buzzing with updates.

She has a board lined up with red cotton to connect all the dots she is sure about and from here, it looks like so much progress.

I do my best to stay out of her way, and let her do her thing, but the tension between us is palpable.

One evening, we sit in silence until she finally speaks.

“They’re falling apart,” she says, not looking up from her screen.

“Who?”

“The cartel,” she says, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “My team’s been feeding me everything—shady photos, offshore accounts, backroom deals. It’s all there. Enough to bring them down.”

“That’s good, right?” I say cautiously, unsure if I should be hopeful or worried.

I'm certain I'm worried about Dana. What if she goes to jail? I mean she is with the bad guys but..

“It’s great,” she says, her smile fading. “But this case... it’s personal.”

I frown. “What do you mean?”

She looks at me.

“I’ve been chasing them for a while now Sophia. Trying to find Emily. Trying to bring them down. But now...” She pauses, running a hand through her hair. “Now it’s not just about Emily. It’s about you too.”

Her words are gentle and weak and heavy. I don’t know what to say, so I just nod.

“What are you going to do?” I ask after a long silence.

“I’m handing it over,” she says. “All the evidence, the leads, everything. I’ve got someone I trust—someone strong enough to take them down. All I care about is finding my sister.”

I’m stunned.

For as long as I’ve known her, Laurel has been nothing but relentless. The idea of her stepping back from this fight feels almost impossible.

“Are you sure?” I ask softly.

“I’ve never been more sure,” she says.

I nod. And while we are at it, she thinks it's best to start the topic about that night.

"I don't think I will ever forgive you for...what you tried to do that night," she mutters softly and I find myself tearing up.

I don't know what to tell her but I just mutter a low, "I understand."

×××

The day she hands over the case, I see a change in her. She’s still focused, still determined, but there’s a lightness I haven’t seen before.

It’s as if letting go of that burden has freed her, even if just a little.

That night, we sit together,and I find the courage to speak my mind.

“Laurel,” I begin, my voice trembling slightly.

She looks up from her phone. “Yeah?”

“I know I’ve been a lot to deal with,” I say, forcing myself to meet her gaze. “And I know you’re doing all of this for Emily, but... thank you. For everything.”

She doesn’t say anything at first, just nods and gives me a small, reassuring smile.

“You’re not a burden, Sophia,” she says finally. “And you’re not just someone I have to protect. You’re...” She trails off, her cheeks flushing slightly.

I feel my own face heat up, but I don’t push her to finish. She already told me how she feels about me that night but I'm not so sure she feels the same way anyway.

I reach out and take her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“We’ll find her,” I say softly. “Emily.”

She nods, her eyes shining with tears.

If tomorrow doesn't come or if tomorrow the world is on fire, I know deep in my heart that I'm in love with this woman.