Chapter 87

• "Okay, I can't keep quiet anymore," Soph says.
• She sits cross-legged on the plush cream rug, burning candles on either side of her. Sunlight spills in through the wide windows, adding a gleam to her jet-black hair. "What happened to the 'I Eat Dick For Breakfast' type gal I saw on the first day."
• I blow out a long-suffering breath, pulling on a pair of tailored slacks. I slip a checkered vest over my head. "The 'type gal' is right here." I cringe into the mirror once the words leave my mouth.