Chapter 7
Sophia reached under the table and found my hand.
“She was awake. Terrified. She couldn’t feel her legs, and the car kept shifting. I cut the belt with the blade on the hammer and pulled her out.”
Luca sat slowly.
I had imagined this conversation many times.
In none of those versions had I been wearing a black server’s dress with champagne drying on my sleeves.
“I held her above water until the rescue boat reached us. She kept asking if her mother was coming.”
Sophia’s fingers tightened.
“I did not know what to say.”
“You sang,” she whispered.
“Yes.”
“My grandmother used to sing ‘Blue Moon River’ when storms frightened me. I sang the first verse until the paramedics took her.”
“I remember all of it,” Sophia said.
Dr. Benton’s eyes moved between us.
“That song is part of her therapy imagery.”
Luca looked at her.
“She has asked us to play it during difficult movement work. She never told us where she learned it.”
Sophia lowered her gaze.
“It was ours.”
My throat closed.
“I told her I would find her again,” I said. “I promised.”
“And you didn’t,” Luca said.
Pain had sharpened his voice.
Before I could answer, Sophia said, “She tried.”
Everyone looked at her.
“I knew she tried.”
“How?” Luca asked.
“I heard Gabriel tell Miss Claire at the old hospital that the river woman was confused and should not be allowed near me.”
The room stopped.
Gabriel’s face remained still.
Too still.
Luca turned toward him.
“What hospital?”
Gabriel answered carefully.
“Sophia was heavily medicated. Trauma memories are unreliable.”
“I wasn’t asleep,” Sophia said.
“Sweetheart, I am not saying you imagined—”
“Do not call her sweetheart,” Luca said.
May you like
The temperature in the room dropped.
Gabriel’s mouth closed.
