Chapter 142

• Sophia’s POV
• The tension in the air was thick enough to cut with a knife. I glanced over at Jenny, sitting across from me at the small kitchen table. She was poking at the slice of cake in front of her with a fork, not really eating it, just prodding at the frosting like it held the answers to all the questions we were both too afraid to ask.
• I let out a long breath and stared at my own plate. The thought of everything—of the attacks, of the secrets we were keeping, of the fear that seemed to linger in every corner of our lives—made my stomach twist. But I was tired of feeling like this. Tired of the silence between us, of the constant anxiety. We needed to talk, to act like everything wasn’t falling apart around us, at least for a little while.