“I texted her too," another witch said. Delilah, I thought her name was. Delilah looked at Haley, who sighed loudly, but then nodded.
Interesting…
“She didn't text me back,” Delilah said.
“Same here.” It was Reva this time, the young witch. Tears gathered in her eyes, her voice breaking as she spoke. “I just figured she got called into work or something.”
I shook my head. It wasn't adding up. Sophie was not a flake. If she’d gotten called in to Illuminae, she would've let them know.
Haley probably would've known that about her, too, but when I tried to catch her eye, she looked away.
What the hell is going on?
“None of you thought that something might be wrong?" I asked.
“Not really.” Reva turned toward the kitchen, where Norah was still preparing my tea, then back to me. “It wasn’t the first time Sophie missed a meeting."
“Usually because of you,” Delilah grumbled.
“Oh yeah?” I snapped. “Well this time it was because she was being murdered in her own bed while you guys sat around with your broomsticks up your asses.”
“That's not fair,” Haley said. She was about to say something else, but the witch sitting on the couch next to her cleared her throat. Norah’s footsteps were getting closer. All of them fell strangely silent after that.
What the hell?
They we're acting like a bunch of kids about to get scolded by the nanny. If that’s what joining the coven did to you, I was glad I’d stuck to my instincts and steered clear.
“I’m sorry," I said, softer this time. “I’m not blaming anyone. I’m just trying to figure out what happened to her.”
“We all want that, Gray,” Norah said. She just returned from the kitchen with a mug of strong, black tea, and I wrapped my hands around it, grateful for the warmth.
The witches fidgeted in their seats.
“I know you're probably feeling helpless,” Norah continued, “maybe like you need to get out there and do something. We all feel that way. But like I told the girls, now that the police are involved, I think it's best if we let them handle it. Right, girls?"
“Yes, Norah,” came the chorus.
Okay… Death made people awkward and uncomfortable in the best of situations, but now I was gettingseriouscreepy vibes. Cult vibes. And what did she mean,now that the police are involved? Would she have preferred to put these dainty, coffee-cake-nibbling witches in charge? Right. Maybe they could scare the killer out of hiding with a coordinated floral napkin offensive.
I sighed again. Steam danced across the surface of my tea, swirling in the current of my breath. I wished I was more prepared for this, but your best friend's murder isn't exactly something you can plan for.
“I'm not helpless," I said. “That's why I’m here. I'm trying to do something more productive than crying.”
Norah bristled. “We all cared about Sophie, Gray. We are all dealing with this loss the best way we—”
“She's notlost,” I snapped. “We're not putting her picture on a milk carton in the hopes that she might turn up in Iowa with a bad case of amnesia. She's not coming back—ever. She's dead."
The energy in the room crackled, and I looked up to find all eyes on me.
“I’m sorry,” I said again. God, how was I screwing this up so badly? “I just wanted to ask a few questions about Sophie and the meeting last night to see if the police may have overlooked anything.”
“You don't trust Detective Alvarez?” Concern flashed in Norah’s eyes, but like her smile, it didn’t seem authentic. “He said you and your…friend… called him directly.”
Her tone was almost accusatory.
“It's not that,” I said. “I’m sure he’s great at his job. But he doesn’t know Sophie. How her mind worked, what she thought about, who she was. He’s not a witch.”
“Oh, and youare?” Delilah snapped.
