Chapter 119
Sophia
The next day, Caroline and I sat in her office, discussing the case developments. My visit with Lily had been brief but precious.
She'd been drowsy but had managed to drink a little of her special nutritional milk, and Dr. Robinson said she could go home soon. The relief of seeing her, touching her warm skin, and whispering that I loved her had been overwhelming.
"You seem in better spirits today," Caroline observed, looking more energized herself. There was a spark in her eyes that I hadn't seen before—the gleam of a lawyer who sensed victory approaching.
"Seeing Lily..." I started, then had to take a deep breath. "It was everything. I could have stayed there forever." The memory of having to leave her, watching her little face as I walked away, still haunted me.
"How was the gathering at The Pinnacle?" I asked, pushing the painful thoughts away.
Caroline's lips curved into a slight smile. "Enlightening. The real purpose wasn't just male bonding—it was to assess Blake's true feelings about Amanda."
"And?" I leaned forward, unable to hide my curiosity. A small, vindictive part of me hoped he was miserable with her. Served him right after what he did to me.
"Blake's heart is clearly not with Amanda," Caroline said matter-of-factly. "He's torn between his obligations to the Sterling family and his true feelings. According to Leon, who had quite a few drinks and became rather talkative, Blake has been sleeping on the couch for weeks."
A complicated emotion surged through me—anger mixed with a forbidden sense of satisfaction. "That doesn't excuse what he did to me," I said firmly, tamping down the unwelcome flicker of hope in my chest. "He can sleep on broken glass for all I care."
"Of course not," Caroline agreed. "But it suggests he's waiting for Amanda to be exposed. He wants the truth to come out, but he's not willing to actively seek it himself."
"So I'm supposed to do all the fucking work while he sits back?" I said bitterly, the anger rising again like bile in my throat. "Typical. He always expected me to fix everything while he made the grand decisions. "
My mind flashed to our past arguments—me presenting detailed solutions while he nodded distractedly, then taking credit when things worked out. The familiar pattern made my teeth clench.
Caroline tapped her pen against her legal pad. "Let's focus on what we can control. Is there any chance someone might have overheard what Amanda said to you in the park?"
I shook my head, mentally replaying that fateful day. "I wish I'd set up my phone to record. I didn't think she would be so explicit about framing me. Stupid, stupid mistake." I'd been too shocked by her brazen confession, too caught up in protecting myself to think strategically.
"We have the security camera footage, but Amanda's voice is muffled. We need better audio evidence," Caroline explained. "I'm having our tech experts reexamine the existing footage. "
"You think we have a chance?" I asked, trying not to sound too hopeful. I'd seen my case crumble before; I couldn't bear it happening again. Hope was dangerous—it made the inevitable disappointments that much more crushing.
"The children's testimony is crucial," Caroline said. "Emma and the other kids have confirmed your version of events. That creates reasonable doubt, which is all we need."
"But the judge might still rule against me because I questioned Amanda's professional ethics, and she lost her baby," I said, voicing my deepest fear. The thought made my stomach churn with anxiety. "They'll paint me as the jealous ex who couldn't stand seeing Blake move on."
Caroline stared at me thoughtfully. "Something about this case feels too perfect. Too neat."
"What do you mean?" My analyst's brain perked up, always ready for a puzzle.
"Why would Amanda risk putting her 'baby'—the key to her position in the Sterling family—in danger?" Caroline asked. "She staged a confrontation with you in a public park, knowing you might react physically. Why take that chance?"
I considered this, my analytical mind clicking into gear. "Her pregnancy to hold onto Blake, especially after he discovered Lily was his daughter. She wanted to secure her position in the Sterling family, and Julianna supported her because she saw Amanda as more controllable than me." The pieces were starting to align in my head, creating a clearer picture.
"Yes, and remember, you and Blake had decided he should marry Amanda while Alex remained Lily's legal father," Caroline continued. "So why would Amanda risk the very thing that was securing her position with Blake and the Sterlings?"
"Unless..." My mind raced as the realization hit me, the truth so obvious I couldn't believe I hadn't seen it before. "Unless she thought she was going to lose the baby anyway. Or she already had. Holy shit, Caroline."
Caroline's eyes lit up. "Exactly. We need to find evidence of that, or at least create reasonable doubt about it. That's our angle."
---
As I returned to my apartment, I received a text from Dr. Robinson: "Lily can go home tomorrow. Surgery scheduled in one month. Recovery progressing well."
Relief flooded through me, but it was tinged with sadness. I remembered our time at the Napa Valley estate—Blake, Lily, and me—when everything had seemed perfect. Now it felt like a distant dream, something that had happened to someone else. A life I had foolishly believed could be mine.
"Fuck," I whispered to myself, blinking back tears. "Get it together, Sophia." I couldn't afford to dwell in the past. Lily needed me present and focused.
I returned to my apartment, where the monotony of my confined life resumed. Lauren visited often, talking about trivial things like the weather, making my restricted existence somewhat bearable. It was only after losing my freedom that I realized how precious simple things were—walking in Central Park, shopping for groceries, taking Lily to the playground. Even the goddamn morning commute seemed like a luxury now.
There was a strange safety in my monitored apartment, though. I was shielded from the media frenzy that still surrounded my case. Sometimes I fantasized about disappearing, starting over somewhere outside New York where no one would recognize me. Maybe Boston again, or further—Seattle, Portland, somewhere rainy and anonymous .
The doorbell rang again, pulling me from my thoughts. I checked the security screen and saw Lauren and Sage.
"Lauren!" I exclaimed as I opened the door, embracing her with genuine joy. Human contact that wasn't monitored or timed felt like a miracle these days. "I didn't know you were approved for a visit."
"One hour," Sage confirmed from the corner where she took her usual seat, a silent reminder of my restricted status. I mentally flipped her off while keeping my face neutral.
"How's everything?" I asked Lauren as we settled on the sofa. "Still keeping Leon at arm's length?"
Lauren rolled her eyes. "He fell asleep on my couch last night after having too many drinks. Snores like a freight train. I seriously considered smothering him with a pillow."
We laughed, and for a moment, it felt almost normal. I savored the sensation of ordinary friendship, storing it away like a precious resource.
"How's Lily?" Lauren asked. "I'm going to visit her at St. Mary's later."
"Much better. Coming home tomorrow," I said, my voice soft with gratitude. "The surgery is scheduled for next month." My eyes welled up again, and I quickly blinked away the tears. Crying had become an embarrassingly frequent occurrence lately.
"We should plan a trip when this is all over," Lauren suggested brightly. "The Maldives, maybe. White sand, clear water—"
"Ladies," Sage interrupted sternly, "remember that all conversations are being recorded. Please avoid discussing any case-related matters."
I bit back a sarcastic response. Every time I started to forget about the surveillance, Sage helpfully reminded me that I was living in a fishbowl.
Elizabeth appeared with a tray of Blue Mountain coffee and French pastries. "Sophia, you need to eat more," she chided gently. "You've lost weight."
"I'm eating, I promise," I assured her, though we both knew it was a lie. Food had lost its appeal, becoming just another mechanical task to complete each day. "Three meals a day, like clockwork. I need to stay healthy for Lily."
As Lauren and I continued our carefully neutral conversation, I found myself genuinely smiling for the first time in days.