Chapter 6

The Knock Then someone knocked on the apartment door.

Three times. Firm. Mark’s head snapped toward the hallway.

Neither of us moved.

The knock came again.

“Sophie?” a woman called. “

Open the door.” My heart stopped. I knew that voice.

The old woman from the bus. Mark’s face changed.

For the first time, he looked afraid. “Who is that?” I whispered. He grabbed my arm. “Don’t.” The knock became louder. “Sophie, step away from him.”

Mark’s grip tightened. “How does she know where we live?” I asked. His eyes darted. And in that tiny movement, I understood. He knew her.

I wrenched my arm free and ran. Mark lunged, but his hand caught only the sleeve of my robe. The fabric tore. I reached the door and unlocked it with shaking fingers. The old woman stood there. Lavender scarf. Silver hair.

A black coat buttoned to her throat. Beside her stood two police officers. Behind them, a younger woman held up a badge.

“Detective Mara Voss,” she said. “Sophie Bennett?” I nodded. Mark stepped back into the hallway. The detective looked past me.

“Mark Bennett, keep your hands where I can see them.” His mouth opened. No sound came out. The old woman touched my shoulder gently.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “Who are you?” I whispered.

Her face folded with grief.

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