The Wrong Path

03 | horsin' around

"I know," Sophia said. "I just wish I knew what that was."

Her phone rang. Callie, Sophia thought, her heart lurching. And sure enough, the name "Estrella" popped up on the screen. She rose, trying to ignore the way her stomach was suddenly clawing its way out of her throat.

"Sorry," Sophia said. "I have to take this."

Ophelia waved her off. "Don't worry. I brought a book."

Some part of her warmed. "You always do."

Her cousin winked, pulling out what looked suspiciously like a Dickens novel. Or Jane Austen. Or something heavy enough that it doubled as a weapon, anyway. Sophia crossed to the window, punching the green button.

"Hello?"

A quiet voice answered. "Good morning, Ms. Huntington. How are you today?"

Sophia closed her eyes. She could picture Callie's bubble-gum pink bob, hear the rhythmic slap of shoes on a treadmill. She wasn't entirely sure that Callie owned a treadmill, actually, but it seemed like the sort of thing the CEO of Estrella would do every morning. In heels. With a coffee in hand.

"I've been better," Sophia said.

"You've seen the photo, then?"

She winced. "I'm so sorry, Callie. It's not what it looks like."

"Unfortunately," Callie said, not unkindly, "I don't care. Do you know what our buzzwords for this perfume launch are? Fresh. Elegant. Refined. We're filming the teaser in a field of daisies. I don't need to tell you that the face of our brand developing a ketamine habit isn't great for business."

Sophia swallowed.

She traced a finger through the condensation gathering on the window. Outside, Lovewood Academy towered over the street. There was something disconcerting about seeing her old alma mater right now; Sophia could picture four girls running around the stone ramparts, climbing gnarled oak trees and grinding scented pencils into bespoke "perfumes" that they'd gleefully wear to class.

So much had changed since then.

Ophelia was studying English at university. Ella had just released her EP and was performing at a slew of high-profile concerts across North America. And Louise was in London, partying and studying in equal amounts.

And Sophia?

Just investing in skincare, Sophia thought wryly, and selling my face for money. One photoshoot at a time.

Still.

She needed this partnership with Estrella. It would pay for the rest of her business undergraduate degree, as well as a much-needed holiday for her mother. She'd beg if she had to.

"What can I do?" Sophia asked. "Tell me what to do to fix things, and I'll do it."

Callie didn't miss a beat. "Publicly admit that the drugs weren't yours. Preserve your image."

Sophia inhaled sharply.

She traced a heart on the window, playing for time. She had contacts in the media; it would be easy to organize an interview. She could release an Instagram story right now, denying that the drugs belonged to her. Her followers would understand.

Sophia's gaze drifted to Ophelia.

But what about her cousin? Aunt Carmen was many things, but she wasn't an idiot; she'd realize that if the drugs didn't belong to Sophia, then her daughter was the likely culprit. And Carmen would go mental. Like, "pull-Ophelia-out-of-university-and-put-her-in-a-rehabilitation-clinic" kind of mental.