Sophia’s POVHis forehead puckers. Then he smiles and scoffs, as if he knows something I don’t.He pockets his phone, then moves to the table to pick up his journal and pen. He walks to his safe, opens it, keeps his journal and pen inside, then shuts it before tracking back to the table.He grabs our drinks, and I almost throw a fist up in celebration. He grabs his Ziploc bag, too, and starts to move without a word.My mouth falls open. I stare at his broad back, watching him leave.“Aren’t you coming?”Oh,“I’m coming.” I glance at my purse before going after him. The slate-gray door is still open. We go through it, walking on a narrow pathway that leads to a staircase. We climb it. He opens a door, and I’m hit by a strong breeze. A loud whirring noise instantly follows it. My hair flies in my face. My dress is raised, and I quickly push it down.“This is the rooftop!” He raises his voice, walking ahead. “Stay close.”I follow him, but my eyes immediately land on the helipad. There’
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