Page 48 of Safe Place

The elevator dings, and Wyatt steps out, glancing between us. “What’s going on? What’d I miss?”

“Sophie just had a revelation,” Micah says, clearly amused.

I point at Micah. “Did you know he owns this building?”

Wyatt blinks at me, then snorts. “Uh, yeah. His name’s literally on the building, Soph.” He gives me a look like I just admitted I didn’t know the sky was blue.

MICAH

My phone rings and I see that it’s Nico.

“I gotta take this,” I say, standing. Wyatt still teasing Sophie about how oblivious she’d been. “Maybe now you can learn something about Wyatt’s background.”

Her jaw opens again. “You’re hiding something too?” she says to Wyatt.

I don’t stick around to hear his answer. I step into the study and shut the door before answering.

“Hi, Nico. I’ve been waiting for this call.”

He exhales slowly on the other end. Not a good sign.

“Micah, uh, this girl’s been through a lot,” he says, his voice heavier than usual.

I knew it. Nico’s seen more bad shit than most people could stomach, and if he’s saying this, it’s serious.

“Tell me everything.”

There’s a pause, then another sigh. “Micah, you know I care about you, right? You and Luke are like sons to me. But officially, I work for your father. I shouldn’t even be telling you this, and you need to keep it between us, but—” His voice drops lower. “Your father also asked me to look into her.”

My jaw tightens. Of course he did.

“Fuck,” I mutter. “Of course he’s keeping tabs on me. Whatever. What’s done is done. Just tell me, Nico. What did you find?”

“You’re not gonna like this,” he says, the faint sound of typing in the background.

“Just say it.”

There’s a pause before he begins, his tone turning grim.

“It looks like her biological father’s never been in the picture. She was likely an unplanned pregnancy. Her mother, Janine Lennox, married her stepfather, Mark Keller, when Sophie was about fifteen. They’re both alcoholics. Mark was arrested for his second DUI when she was seventeen. Hit a pedestrian that time. There were multiple reports filed with Child Protective Services before that, but nothing stuck. Neighbors called the cops several times for domestic disturbances—yelling, glass breaking. One incident had Sophie’s mom taken to the ER with a fractured wrist. There’s a police report mentioning visible bruising on Sophie, but she denied any accusations against him. I guess there was nothing concerning during the investigations. Sophie was just sixteen.”

My grip on the phone tightens until my knuckles ache.

Nico keeps going, his voice steady and clinical, but every word hits like a punch.

“He’s still got a couple of years left on his sentence, but he’s eligible for early release in a couple weeks for good behavior. He’s already filed the paperwork.”

I stare at my desk, but I’m not seeing it. My chest feels heavier with every word.

“Her mom’s been unemployed since he went to jail. Sophie’s been working nonstop since high school—cafes, tutoring, retail, anything that paid. Records show over a dozen jobs in four years. And she’s kept high grades the entire time—impressive, considering she’s been clocking thirty to forty hours a week while taking full course loads.”

I shut my eyes briefly, forcing down the anger burning through me.

“She emancipated herself at seventeen back in Illinois. Pays every rent check on time. Full scholarship to Westcliffe. She still sends her mom money in large amounts—a few thousand at a time—usually after long messages about being behind on bills. Safe to assume she’s guilted into it.” He sighs. “She’s got a soft heart for everything she's been through. Shame her mother knows it too.”

I let out a slow breath through my nose, trying to keep my temper in check, but it’s useless. Her mother takes the money Sophie earns—money she’s saving for law school—after working three damn jobs. What the fuck kind of mother does that?

“Micah?” Nico prompts carefully.