Chapter 8 - Why Sophie Feared Grace
Grace looked devastated.
“I don't understand.”
Evelyn did.
“Because Sophie remembers Geneva.”
Grace turned toward her mother.
“What happened in Geneva?”
Evelyn sat down.
For the first time, she looked old.
Years earlier, Victor discovered Elena was investigating Hale Maritime.
He arranged to have Elena and Sophie moved to a private facility under the pretense of protection.
Grace worked there.
Victor ordered Grace to administer medication to Sophie.
Grace refused.
So Victor manipulated her.
He told her Sophie suffered from dangerous neurological episodes.
The medication was supposedly treatment.
It wasn't.
It made Sophie confused.
Suggestible.
Afraid.
Grace unknowingly gave it to her for weeks.
“No.”
Grace covered her mouth.
“No.”
Evelyn nodded.
“When you discovered the truth, you tried to get Sophie out.”
“Then why doesn't she remember that?”
“Because children remember fear before explanations.”
Grace began crying.
I wanted to hate her.
Couldn't.
Not yet.
“Why erase Grace's memory?”
I asked.
Evelyn answered:
“Because Victor would have killed her.”
“You drugged your own daughter for years?”
“I made her forget enough that he believed she was harmless.”
Grace stared at her mother with horror.
“You don't get to call that protection.”
I understood that sentence too well.
Everyone in our families hurt people and renamed it protection.
I approached the reinforced door.
“Sophie.”
Nothing.
I sat on the floor.
A mafia boss in a beige suit sitting outside a locked room because his six-year-old daughter was afraid.
“Sophie, I'm not opening the door.”
Silence.
“You don't have to see Grace.”
Still nothing.
“I just want you to know something.”
My voice broke.
I hated that.
“I thought you were dead.”
Behind the door, something moved.
“I would have looked for you every day if I'd known.”
A tiny voice answered.
“Mommy said that.”
My eyes closed.
“Where is Mommy?”
Silence.
Then:
“She went to find Grandpa.”
Alexander.
My father.
“When?”
“Lots of sleeps.”
Evelyn answered quietly.
“Six weeks.”
Elena had gone searching for Alexander after learning he might still be alive.
She never returned.
“Where?”
Evelyn pointed toward the red notebook.
A.H. wasn't Alexander Hale.
It was a location.
Ash Harbor.
Private island property on Lake Michigan.
Owned through Hale subsidiaries.
My father had purchased it before his supposed death.
Marcus immediately prepared transport.
I refused to leave without Sophie.
The door finally opened.
She stood there.
Six years old.
Dark curls like Elena.
My eyes.
I had imagined this moment thousands of times.
In every version, she ran to me.
She didn't.
She stared.
So I remained where I was.
Then Amara walked past everyone.
Straight toward Sophie.
“Hi.”
Sophie looked confused.
Amara offered her half a cookie.
Children apparently had diplomatic strategies adults should study.
Sophie accepted it.
Then Amara pointed at me.
“He lets me eat his bread.”
Sophie almost smiled.
She looked at me.
“Can I sit in my chair?”
I couldn't answer immediately.
“Yes.”
“Is it still there?”
“Yes.”
“Mommy said you never let anybody use it.”
I looked at Amara.
“One person.”
Sophie considered this.
Then took one step toward me.
Before she could take another, the underground lights died.
Emergency alarms screamed.
Marcus shouted.
A gunshot echoed upstairs.
Evelyn grabbed the children.
Then a voice came through the speaker system.
A man's voice.
Old.
Controlled.
Familiar enough to pull me fourteen years backward.
“Julian.”
My father.
Alexander Hale.
“I know you found Sophie.”
I looked at the ceiling.
His voice continued:
“Now bring my granddaughter to Ash Harbor.”
Sophie grabbed Amara's hand.
May you like
Alexander finished:
“Or Elena dies before sunrise.”
