My face is buried in a pillow when my phone rings. I’m not asleep, nowhere close to it either, but I haven’t had the will to move for hours. I turn my head over and drag an arm to my phone on the bedside table.

“Hi Nora,” I mumble with my pillow still half in my mouth.

“Sophia! Jesus, I’m glad you’re okay.”

I barely mumble a confirmation.

“Do you have a second to talk?” she asks hastily.

Ya know… I might just have all the time in the world.

“Yeah, I can talk.”

“I’ll make it quick, I promise—I was in Atlanta for work, got back yesterday and saw everything! Have you… that’s not… is it true?”

I realize how much I’ve been holding onto the faint hope that Nora was calling for any other reason, but it instantly shatters. Angst courses through my limbs and I feel the weight of the entire world in my gut.

“Yes,” I say feebly.

“It was Noah? Like… your Noah?”

The way she says it makes my chest lock up.

My Noah.

A week ago she was more than willing to shrug him off, yet now she has no problem pairing us together. Just like everyone else.

I feel a sudden urge to deny it, not because I’d rather lie, but because it feels like I’m accepting something utterly impossible. Something fake.

But that’s not the case. And continuing to refuse it is only going to prolong the pain.

I close my eyes and swallow hard before I reply. “It appears like it.”

“No!” she exclaims. “Sophia, no! That’s awful. Did you know the victim?”

“No. I didn’t.”

“He didn’t go after you too, did he?”

“No!” For some reason that strikes a nerve. Noah would’ve never hurt me. But as soon as the thought comes to mind, there immediately comes another…

I could’ve easily been in danger without ever knowing.

I flash back to the night I was pulled over. Sheriff Vernon outside my window. Noah sitting silently to my right. It’s an image I’ve repeatedly blocked out. At least until now.

I roll over and try to push it all away, but I can’t rid my mind of the sheriff’s face. His voice…

Surprised to see you out with a knucklehead.

A cold shiver zaps up my spine. Is it possible he knew something about Noah that I didn’t?

Of course it is.

It’s not even unlikely. He’s the sheriff. And he and Noah knew each other, they had something between them. Something weird. And this is why.

My body deflates and hot tears fill my eyes.

“God, I’m so glad you’re not hurt,” Nora says. The surprise in her voice has softened into sympathy. “You must be in shock.”

There it is. Her tenderness unleashes tears down my cheeks.

“Sophia? Are you okay babes?”

My voice is stuck in my throat when I try to answer. “No, not at all,” I choke out. More tears trail down my face and soak into my pillow.

“Oh girly,” she whispers. “Talk to me, don’t hold it in.”

“I don’t know what the hell is going on, Nora!”

“Hey now! You’re not blaming yourself, are you?”

I mumble I don’t know, but it sounds more like a messy sob.

“Don’t! Sophia, you can’t do that,” she says. “Be fair to yourself! You can’t save everyone. You’re safe! You saved yourself, do you know how important that is right now?”

Saved myself. What a joke.

The only thing I did was blindly throw myself into the arms of a murderer. If I had half the instincts I thought I did, I would’ve seen the clues and I would’ve acted.

And if I’d done that, maybe I would’ve saved that girl’s life.

Nora doesn’t wait for me to respond. “Can you even imagine? You have to see the whole scope of this thing,” she says. “Remember our talk? Remember that? Can you imagine if you’d let yourself get any closer to him? You deserve credit for that! It’s the reason you’re safe!”

All I can do is sob into the phone. I don’t have anything to say. Not anymore. I’ve lost touch with my logic. Hell, I’ve lost touch with myself.

I don’t even know who I am.

“Oh girly,” she croons even softer this time. “You’re not at your desk right now, are you? Can you find a place to talk?”

My phone buzzes in my hand. I pull the vibration away from my face and the words Claire Brooks instantly halt my tears.

Nora begins muttering in my palm and I raise my phone again.

“I gotta go,” I sputter quickly. “I’ll call you back, okay?” Without waiting, I switch to the incoming call.

“Claire?”

“Hey, Soph.”

I’m hit with a pang of sorrow and the intense urge to ask her not to call me that anymore. She sounds too much like him. But I bite my lip and focus on suppressing my tears.

“Is everything okay?” I ask.

At first, she only exhales. “I really shouldn’t be doing this, but I think you deserve it.” My fingers tremble as she hesitates. “I just want to let you know that Noah Mason was formally charged with murder earlier today.”

I shut my eyes, enduring the weight of the blow all over again.

“Okay.” It’s all I can get out.

“I’m sorry, Soph,” she says. “There’s too much evidence that he did it. I… I’m just really sorry.”

For a moment I feel weightless, like I’ve shed the last link connecting me to Noah. But a dark cloud of guilt returns a split second later.

“Don’t blame yourself,” Claire says, as if reading my thoughts.

“How can I not, Claire?”

“You know these kinds of people. They’re evil and they’re good at deceiving,” she says. “You’re one of our best and if you didn’t know, hell, how could anyone?”

Another rush of tears swells in my eyes. I try to hold onto my voice as they spill. “I just wish I could’ve done something before—”

“I know,” she says firmly. It hangs in the air as I take in a slow and deliberate breath.

“Where was she killed?”

“What?”

“Where did he do it?” I ask. “You said the body was dumped. Where did it happen?”

“We’re not sure yet.”

“You’re not sure?” My heart knots in my chest. “You’re rushing him into a trial before you even have a crime scene?”

“I’m not doing anything. Sheriff took the evidence to the DA and they decided to charge him.”

“You said Sheriff knew the vic, maybe he’s—”

“Come on, Soph,” Claire says, not hiding her irritation. “To be honest, I don’t blame them. Bullet matched a gun with his fingerprints. His DNA was at the scene. Every-single-thing points to Noah.”

“Were there other prints on the gun?”

“Sophia.”

“What? Come on, Claire, don’t give in to—”

“Sophia!” she exclaims. “Don’t go there. I called to let you know the truth. I was hoping it would help you.”

“Help me? Was that supposed to help me sit here and wallow in my grief? I can’t do anything, Claire. I can’t investigate any part of this, so excuse me if I have a few questions.”

“You’re not asking questions! You’re defending him. And last time I checked, you were a damn good officer. Not a slimy defense attorney,” she says. “If this involved anyone besides Noah, you wouldn’t doubt the evidence for a second.”

My throat goes so dry that I’m incapable of speaking. I close my eyes.

She’s right.

It’s not my job to defend Noah. Not my job to defend us, whatever we had. Not when I could’ve just as easily been his victim.

“I know.” My stomach churns with a fusion of guilt and regret. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” Nora begins to speak but I try my best to talk over her. “Let me just ask you one more thing, then I’m done. I promise.”

She sighs. “Yes?”

“When was she killed?”

“The coroner put her DOT around two hours before her body was discovered,” she says flatly. “Which is consistent with the timestamps on her last few calls. Her last phone call went out at 8:47 seven p.m. Thursday night. Sheriff called her a few times around 9:30 but couldn’t get an answer. That’s when he went looking for her and, well, you know the rest.”

Something bursts in my chest.

“Wait, 9:30 on Thursday night?”

“Yep.”

“Claire, this wasn’t Noah! It can’t be I was—”

“Don’t do this, Soph. You promised.”

“Listen!” I shout. “When was the exact TOD?”

“You know we don’t have exacts, but coroner estimated around 9:00 p.m., give or take.”

“Okay! Claire, listen, this wasn’t him!” I protest. “It couldn’t have been. I was with him!”

There’s a long pause but I don’t want to continue. I want her to absorb it.

“You were with him at what time?” she finally asks.

“I was with him from 6:00 Thursday evening until 8:15 Friday morning.”

“Non-stop?”

“Non-stop. We went to bed around 11:00 and he was at my side starting at 6:00. That covers your entire window.”

Another long pause. She draws in a breath.

“Soph, we found his semen,” she says soberly. “It matched his sample in CODIS.”

“I can’t explain that, at least not right now. But you have to believe me!” I plead. “Noah has no motive to do this. And I was with him, I’ll testify to it!”

“Okay, slow down. Listen to me for a second, and don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t want you getting anymore roped into this thing.”

“I’m already in this, Claire. I’ll never escape it.”

“All right, okay,” she stammers. “But, it just… it seems impossible.”

“I was with him all night. Do you believe me or not? There’s no in between.”

“Of course I believe you.”

“Who found the semen, officers or the coroner?” I ask.

“We did.”

“Where?”

“It was all over her stomach and genitalia.”

“You need to retest it,” I say firmly.

“They already did, Sheriff’s orders,” she says. “He’s upset about the Vic and wants this whole case rock-solid.”

I bring my phone down and squeeze it between my palms. It’s taking everything I have to not implode right now.

I take a deep breath before bringing it back to my ear. “How did you know she was dumped?”

“Close range gun wound but no blood splatter anywhere at the scene. No sign of her clothes. Motel residents never reported hearing a gunshot. Although, the murder weapon was left alongside—”

“I know.” I shut my eyes and clench my jaw. I feel a headache coming on, but I fight it back.

All right.

“Okay, I need you to give me the full run down. Tell me everything you know,” I say, springing from my bed to snatch a loose piece of paper and a pen from my bedside table. “Please Claire! This is my only option,” I add after a moment passes without a response.

“All right! But promise me you won’t—”

“I won’t,” I blurt. “But we don’t have much time. Please!”

“Okay, I can’t look anything up right now but I know she was twenty-four-years-old, name was Elizabeth Barton. Prior arrests for a DUI and prostitution. TOD around 9 p.m. Thursday night, body recovered around eleven. Shot and killed with a snub nose .38-caliber revolver. She was dumped in the corner of the parking lot behind the Palm Leaf Motel off—”

“Off twenty-second and Wilma,” I say, scribbling as I write.

“Yep. And I assume you know about the accused. Noah Mason, youngest son of Jim and Maria Mas—”

“Hold up, what was that?” For the first time I stop writing and look up.

“What? Son of Thomas and—”

“Did you say youngest son? Noah has a brother?” I ask, the floor crumbling below me.

“Yeah, that’s right. Well—he did. His brother died just a about a year-and-a-half ago. He was only thirty-two. Parents both deceased as well. Seems that Noah’s been on his own ever since.”

I bite my lip. “How did he die?”

“It’s ironic you ask because I was just looking into it this morning. It’s an odd case,” she says. “His name was Kristopher Mason, died somewhat peculiarly while hospitalized. One of the nurses noted her suspicion of arsenic poisoning, but evidently nothing ever came of it. No investigation.”

“Arsenic poisoning?”

“Uh-hmm. Random, I know.”

I drop my pen and fall backwards into my bed.

Noah had a brother.

Not only that, but Noah had a brother that died almost a year ago. And he never said a word.

I suck in a breath before sitting up again. “You said Noah’s the only one left?”

“Yep. Well, sort of. Kristopher Mason’s fiancé was pregnant with their child when he died.”

I have to shut my eyes again.

“What’s the fiancé’s name?” I ask after a long moment.

“Savannah Platt.”

“Does she live close?”

Claire groans. “I wish I didn’t know that answer. Yes. She does. But Sophia, you’re going to get me in a lot of trouble if you start digging around in this.”

“Well I’m not going to stand idly by, Claire. You’re going to have to give up on that. Noah didn’t commit this murder, I know that for a fact. And not only does that mean that an innocent man is facing trial, but also that whoever really did do this is still out there,” I say. “I need you to give me Savannah’s address, I need to talk to her.”

“Soph, I have a really bad feeling about this.”

“Address, Claire!”