"Sophie, dear. You should have run when you had the chance."The voice from the darkness wasn't Detective Cross anymore. It was softer now. Almost gentle. The voice of a woman who'd spent eleven years being beaten by her husband and had finally learned to hit back.I stumbled backward into the parking lot, snow blurring my vision. The motel room was a black hole behind me. I couldn't see her, but I could feel her—a presence in the dark, patient and waiting. Jace's mother. The woman in the hidden photograph. The one who was supposed to be gone, safe, far away from the monster she married."Why are you doing this?" My voice came out steadier than I felt. "Jace thinks you're—""Dead? Gone? Hiding?" A soft laugh. "I know what my son thinks. I let him think it. It was easier than explaining the truth.""What truth?"The snow crunched behind me. I spun around, but there was nothing except the empty parking lot and the flickering neon sign. When I turned back, a figure had emerged from the m
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