Chapter 8 - The Night Someone Followed Sophie Home
Sophie did not sleep.
She sat in Julian’s library with her father’s old photograph on her lap until sunrise.
Alive.
The possibility felt crueler than death.
If Thomas Carter had survived, where had he been for fifteen years?
Why had he abandoned his wife?
His daughter?
Why allow Sophie to stand beside an empty grave every Father’s Day?
Julian entered carrying coffee.
He placed it beside her.
She did not touch it.
“You think Dominic was lying.”
“I think Dominic lies when truth is less useful.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“No.”
Sophie looked up.
“What do you think?”
Julian sat across from her.
“I think if Thomas survived, there had to be a reason powerful enough to make disappearing safer than coming home.”
“My mother died believing he was dead.”
“I know.”
“She was never the same after that crash.”
Julian did not defend a man he had never truly known.
Sophie appreciated that.
At nine, Daniel Whitaker arrived.
He denied everything.
“I identified Thomas because Elizabeth couldn’t do it.”
“Did you see his body?”
Daniel looked away.
Sophie’s voice became quiet.
“Did you see him?”
“No.”
Her stomach dropped.
“The medical examiner said facial identification was impossible.”
“So you used dental records.”
“Yes.”
“Where did you get them?”
“Thomas had given me copies.”
“Why would anyone give a friend their dental records?”
Daniel had no answer.
Julian watched him carefully.
Finally, Daniel whispered, “Because we had discussed disappearance.”
Sophie stood.
“What?”
“Thomas believed someone would come after you and Elizabeth if the investigation continued.”
“So he planned to fake his death?”
“No. He talked about it. That’s all.”
“Then why did you have his records?”
“Because he trusted me.”
“Did you help him disappear?”
Daniel’s eyes filled with tears.
“I don’t know.”
“That makes no sense.”
“After the crash, I received a letter.”
“From him?”
“I think so.”
“What did it say?”
Daniel reached into his coat.
He had carried it for fifteen years.
The paper was worn at the folds.
KEEP SOPHIE SAFE. LET HER BELIEVE I’M GONE.
No signature.
Sophie stared.
“You never showed my mother?”
“I thought I was protecting you.”
She slapped the letter onto the table.
“You let us bury an empty coffin.”
“I didn’t know it was empty.”
“You knew enough!”
Her voice broke.
Julian stepped forward.
Sophie raised one hand.
“Don’t.”
He stopped.
She needed anger.
If he comforted her, she might fall apart.
Daniel whispered, “I’m sorry.”
Sophie looked at the man who had attended every birthday after her father died.
Who had sat in the front row at her college graduation.
Who had carried boxes when she moved apartments.
He had loved her in his way.
And lied every day.
“Leave.”
“Sophie—”
“Leave.”
Daniel obeyed.
That afternoon Sophie insisted on going to school.
Classes had been canceled.
Still, she wanted her classroom.
Julian assigned security outside.
She hated it.
But she stopped arguing.
At four, Sophie left through the faculty entrance.
Marco was speaking with a police officer near the parking lot.
For thirty seconds, nobody watched the sidewalk.
That was enough.
A man stepped from an alley.
“Ms. Carter.”
Sophie froze.
He was in his late sixties.
Thin.
Gray beard.
Baseball cap.
Something about his eyes made Sophie’s entire body go cold.
Her own eyes.
Same hazel shade.
Same slight downward angle.
The man whispered, “You look like your mother.”
Sophie could not breathe.
“Dad?”
The man flinched.
That was answer enough.
Fifteen years collapsed into one second.
Sophie took a step.
Then stopped.
Her father raised both hands.
“I can explain.”
“No.”
“Sophie—”
“You don’t get to say my name.”
“I had no choice.”
“Everyone says that when they want forgiveness for choosing themselves.”
Pain crossed his face.
“I watched you.”
Her anger sharpened.
“What?”
“From far away.”
“That is not better!”
Marco noticed them.
He started forward.
Thomas stepped back.
“Don’t let Romano know I’m here.”
Too late.
Julian’s car was entering the lot.
Thomas saw it.
Fear entered his face.
Not hatred.
Fear.
He turned.
Sophie grabbed his sleeve.
“No.”
“Sophie.”
“You don’t disappear again.”
A black SUV screeched around the corner.
The rear door opened.
Thomas shoved Sophie toward the ground.
Marco ran.
Two men pulled Thomas into the vehicle.
Julian’s sedan stopped hard.
He jumped out.
The SUV sped away.
Sophie screamed, “Dad!”
Julian reached her.
She fought against him.
“Let me go!”
“He pushed you out of the way.”
“They took him!”
Julian looked toward the disappearing vehicle.
Marco shouted the plate number into his radio.
Sophie turned on Julian.
“He was alive.”
“I know.”
“He was standing right there.”
“I know.”
“For fifteen years.”
Julian held her shoulders.
“Sophie, look at me.”
She did.
“We will find him.”
“How?”
“The people who took Thomas made a mistake.”
“What?”
Julian’s face became terrifyingly calm.
“They took him in front of me.”
That evening, dozens of Romano security teams began searching the city.
Police issued an alert.
Cameras were checked.
Traffic routes mapped.
At 9:42 p.m., Sophie’s phone rang.
Unknown number.
She answered.
Thomas’s voice came through.
“Sophie.”
“Dad?”
“I’m okay.”
She stood.
“Where are you?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“Who has you?”
A pause.
Then:
“The same man who killed Alessandro Romano.”
Julian heard.
His face hardened.
Sophie whispered, “Who?”
Thomas started to answer.
A loud noise interrupted.
Then another voice came onto the line.
Calm.
Familiar.
“Good evening, Sophie.”
She recognized it instantly.
May you like
Dominic Vale.
And Dominic was supposed to be under police guard at the hospital.
