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“Why am I bathing in my underwear, Smithers?”
“You're in shock.”
Smithers held a glass of water to her lips and encouraged her to sip.
“Why am I in shock?”
"You don't remember anything?”
She shook her head. “The last I knew, I was getting ready. I don't even remember putting the dress on. I was just about to have it hoisted over my head, but the girls were late, and…” she put her hand to her forehead as she felt a sudden ache womping through what felt like her entire think brain part.
“It's okay. Take your time. Actually, step out of the bath. Let's refresh the water.”
“Whose blood is this?”
She held onto Smithers as if for dear life as he helped raise her out of the tub and let the horrible red waters flow away.
“Smithers, what happened? Where’s Alex?”
“He was shot.”
“Oh my god, by who?”
Smithers hesitated for a moment, as if he was weighing up how much to tell her.
“By you. At the ceremony.”
“But I never got to the ceremony…”
Her mind was fuzzy and blank in a very strange way. It wasn't that she just couldn't remember, it was that there was a complete absence of memory, like a hole.
“Something’s wrong with me, Smithers.”
“You've been checked out by a doctor. You're clear. That’s why you're here, in the New York house. Alex is in hospital. His condition is serious, but stable.”
“I have to go see him…”
“Not tonight. He's under heavy guard and even heavier sedation. Tonight you need to get cleaned up, get some rest, and recover yourself.”
“Wait.” She stopped him just as he was walking out the door.
“Yes?”
"So YOU think I shot him too. Right? You think I’m a murderous bitch?”
“I think you're getting cold, and I think you should get in the shower. I’ll be outside.”
“FUCK!”
Screaming and swearing made her feel marginally better, and there was literally nothing else she could do. She was still dripping with the bloody water, her underwear ruined along with the rest of her life.
“I’m going to leave you to get cleaned up,” Smithers told her. "I will be just outside if you need me. There's a fresh change of clothes on the hamper."
Once he was gone, Sophie got into the shower and let the water run over her. She didn't know what to do. She didn’t know what to think. She was confused and sick to her stomach.
Eventually she washed herself mostly out of simple muscle memory and emerged from the shower completely exhausted. She was not aware of being led to bed, or of lying down, or of Smithers tucking her in. Darkness consumed her, sweeping her away into tormented sleep.
Chapter 29
Waking up felt like the worst decision she'd ever made. For a second or two, she was fine. Then memory came flooding back like a physical weight on her chest. She couldn't move from the bed, and she didn't until much later.
“Good afternoon.”
Smithers threw the curtains back, forcing sunshine into the room.
“Close those," she ordered, shoving her head underneath the blankets.
“I don't think so. It's time you got up and ate something.”
“I’m not hungry. Is Alex…”
“Alex’s condition is still stable.”
“Has he asked to talk to me?”
“No."
She plucked at the covers and thought. Alex must be furious to be keeping her away. He must blame her. And so must…
“Wait. There were thousands of people and cameras there. This must be… everybody must be talking about this. Does everybody think I murdered Alex?”
“They think you tried.”
“So the world thinks I’m a murderer, or a would-be murderer.”
“It’s not ideal," Smithers allowed.
"Are the police going to arrest me?”
"They're not.”
“Why not?”
Smithers sighed. “You’re not going to like this.”
“Please tell me.”
“Sophie Rosu died, as far as they're concerned. There's a body matching your metrics in the morgue right now. The official story is that you drank cyanide.”
There was so much to unpack there, and she didn't want any of it.
“What!? Why?! Why was there a body just waiting to be conveniently dumped if…”
“There's been a body on ice since you were given your surgery. There were protocols for it to be deployed in the case of such an incident.”
"There was a protocol to fake my death in case I shot Alex?”
“Well, not just in that circumstance, but yes.”
“Fuck. I have to see Alex.”
“You can’t see him. You're dead. And a murderer.”
“FUCK!” She screamed the word in pure frustration. Why could literally nothing be easy? Why was her world a constant clusterfuck of misery and pain?
“So Sophie Pierce disappeared as a terrorist, Sophie Rosu died… I have to change my face? Again!?”
“That's a problem for later.”
“Says the man who didn’t get accused of shooting his husband and then have his reputation destroyed for a second time inside a year.”
“You are facing a challenging time.”
“I’m not facing anything. I’m faceless.”
Chapter 30
“So, she shot you, huh? Tough break.” Christo slung himself into the chair beside Alex's hospital bed with a smile that was far too cheerful to belong anywhere near a gunshot victim.
