Page 100 of Return Policy

“I’m checking if he’s alive.” I pull out of his grasp, bending back down, and he yanks me up by my shoulders, gripping them tightly.

“No!”

“What?” I glare up at him, trying to wiggle free, but his hold is too tight. “We have to get him help.”

My eyes connect with Charlie’s. Her hand covers her mouth, phone clutched tightly in the other.

“Call the police!” I shout at her before returning my gaze down at the bloodied and almost unrecognizable body.

“No!” Seth shouts at her before turning his attention back to me. “Sophia,” he says firmly, his hands squeezing my arms. “Look at him.”

“I… I am.” I shake my head as the sticky blood drips from my fingers. “He needs help. We can help him. I can help him.”

“Sophia,” Seth says again gently. “He’s already dead.” Every muscle in my body shakes at once.

“You don’t know that! We have to call the police!” The sky spins as I take gasping breaths.

“Damn it, Soph!” Seth yells, grabbing my waist, dragging me towards the car.

I struggle against his hold, spinning around in his arm, digging my toes in the ground, trying to get back to the body.

“For fuck’s sake!” He bends down, tossing me over his shoulder before continuing towards the truck.

“Stop it!” I slam my fists against his back, thrashing my legs, trying to get free, but his hold is too tight. He’s too big. Too strong.

“Come on, Charlie. Get in the fucking truck before I make you!” he yells, and she trails quickly behind us. Her eyes briefly connect with mine before she darts them away, looking at the ground.

“Seth! What the hell is wrong with you?!” I wail.

“Do you realize what this could do to me? To you?!” he shouts, ignoring my protests. “We could go to jail, Soph! We’d lose everything!”

“We have to—”

“I said no!” He cuts me off, shoving me into the truck. I turn to fight him, body freezing as my eyes snag on his shirt covered in blood.

He glances down at it, then back to me with a murderous expression. “Fuck, Soph! Now we have to figure out how to scrub off this evidence.”

Evidence? He slams my door, puts Charlie in the back, and rounds to the driver’s side.

“It was an accident,” I say quietly as he buckles himself in. “We have to call the police.”

I grab my phone out of the cup holder, and Seth’s large hand wraps around mine. He tries to tug it from my grasp.

“Stop!” I use all my strength, hoping to keep possession of the phone. “We have to call the police!”

“It’s still manslaughter!” Seth snarls coldly, overpowering me and snatching the phone. He shoves hard against my shoulder, forcing me back against my seat.

“We have to call the police,” I repeat, staring down at my empty hands as Seth puts the car in drive.

“This would ruin our entire lives,” Seth says firmly. “We can’t ever talk about this again. This never happened.”

“Someone is going to wonder where he is. Wonder why he’s missing,” Charlie says quietly, speaking for the first time.

“We have to call the police.”

“Did you see him? His clothes? The shopping cart?” Seth says, his tone laced with judgment. “He was homeless. No one’s gonna miss him or ask questions. They’ll assume he was walking drunk and got hit. The police won’t even think twice about it.”

The voice is Seth’s, but the words don’t sound like his.

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