Page 87 of The Situation Ship
“How’d you get in here?” Poppy was sure that Isaiah had mentioned setting the alarm before leaving. Sophia didn’t seem to have any weapons, but then again, she couldn’t be sure what she had in her purse.
“You should tell your friend that her construction workers must remember to lock the windows and side doors when theyleave. I didn’t even have to break a sweat to get in here.” With her sundress, oversized sunglasses, and chunky sandals, Sophia looked like a movie star, not a woman on a murder spree.
“Did you hurt Phoebe?” Poppy asked, dread coursing through her.
“Don’t worry, Phoebe’s unharmed. I overheard her talking with her boyfriend, and she was kindly going to the market to pick you up a few things,” Sophia said, sitting on the lounger beside Poppy’s. About five feet were between them, but it still felt too close for Poppy. Was she just here for a friendly chat? “You really have a talent for making people like you– going out of their way to help you. If only they knew that you were like me. Ruthless, merciless, a killer.” She spoke like it was something to be proud of.
“We are nothing alike.” Poppy didn’t kill because she wanted to, because she enjoyed it.
“Let’s not lie to each other. I thought after last night that we could at least be honest with each other,” Sophia said, removing her glasses and placing them on the table beside her breakfast.
“I’ve nothing to hide. You already know all my secrets.” Poppy glanced at the knife she’d used to butter her toast, which she could use as a weapon, but Sophia was ignoring it. Was she so sure that Poppy wouldn’t attack her first? She would have, if she didn’t have questions that needed answering.
“Good. How’s the shoulder? Looks painful.” Sophia winced. “You should’ve shot Davide when I told you to. Now you’ll have a nasty scar on your perfect porcelain skin.”
“Let’s not waste time on small talk. Phoebe is meant to come by, and I don’t want her interrupting what you have planned for me,” Poppy said bluntly.
Sophia grimaced as she refused to play along.
“Being Calliope’s niece, you must despise me because of the things my aunt did to yours, but you killed Calliope. I just wantto know – why?” Poppy leaned forward, trying to get closer in case she needed to grab the knife. With her shoulder, she wasn’t all that fast on her feet. “You could’ve gone to the police about what you knew about me and ruined my life in an instant. I hardly think I’m worth some lengthy and arduous plan.”
Sophia looked taken aback, studying her as though she was trying to figure out whether Poppy was lying. “You really don’t know who I am? What you’ve done?”
She reached into her bag, and Poppy flinched, but she only pulled out a folded piece of paper.
“Read it.” Sophia held it out to her, and Poppy hesitated until Sophia dropped it on the table between them. Poppy only picked up the papers when Sophia backed away, in case she was only using the papers to distract her.She scanned the legal document.
“Out loud,” Sophia snapped.
“Refusal of Parental Rights.” The rest was legal jargon she didn’t see much point in reading; her eyes drifted to the signature at the end. “Signed by… Martha Roe. M-my aunt is your birth mum?” she stammered.
The date of birth told her that Sophia, her biological cousin, had been born four years before Martha had taken Poppy in. The symbol at the top of the document was from the orphanage she’d been taken from. It all made sense now– why her aunt had donated to the orphanage for so many years. Had it been hush money to keep the orphanage quiet because Martha gave up one child just to adopt another to appear as the saviour of her orphaned niece in the headlines? She’d never known anything about it, never known her aunt had given up a child. In a way, it made sense and confirmed a lifelong suspicion – that Poppy was a PR stunt to carry off Martha’s angelic image. Anyone could have a child, but adopting and raising an orphan, giving thema charmed life, was front-page news. Could her aunt really have been so twisted?
Or maybe Martha had known she could never love or treat a child how they deserved and simply used Poppy as a replacement. In her eyes, Sophia had made a lucky escape – but she doubted her cousin felt that way. Her murderous nature made sense now too. Sociopathy ran in Martha’s blood.
“And the penny drops,” Sophia said smugly. “The woman who raised you, gave you everything, and made you who you are, gave me up and then died before I had a chance to know her. You took her from me.”
Poppy’s blood ran cold. “If there was ever a reason for revenge, that’s a good one.”
“I’m relieved you aren’t going to try and deny it.” Sophia remained unnervingly calm.
“That would only waste time.” Poppy shrugged. “Can I ask how you ended up with Calliope before we get to the avenging part? My curiosity tends to get the better of me.” She wanted to know, and she needed to stall for Isaiah to return. She could only hope that he would return before Phoebe.
“I went searching for my mother, but I found Calliope first. She was my mother’s emergency contact when she gave birth to me. I didn’t know about their strenuous relationship. Still, Calliope took me in and promised to introduce me to Martha to help mediate the situation.”
“I don’t think Calliope would’ve been the right choice in that situation,” Poppy said.
“No. In fact, she threatened Martha. Told her that she’d go to the press and reveal how the golden mother of Hollywood gave up her own child. I didn’t learn this until later, when I went to Martha’s house. I found her address in Calliope’s things and couldn’t wait any longer. It was you who answered the door. You thought I was a fan. You were even kind enough to give me asigned album. I wanted to tell you who I was, but you closed the door on me.”
Poppy couldn’t even place the interaction.
“Closing the door on you was probably a mercy. My aunt would’ve called the police on you for trespassing,” she said, wanting Sophia to know what Martha was like. “I understand your desire to want to know her, that you want to avenge a woman who might’ve been your mother by blood. I don’t think this will change your plans, but believe me when I tell you that she didn’t have a loving bone in her body. I’m afraid that if you knew her, truly knew her, you wouldn’t have wasted so much time and energy avenging her. If you think that I stole your mother from you, whether because she raised me or because I killed her, I’m afraid you’re wrong. Martha had no interest in being a mother, not to me or anyone. Consider yourself lucky that she gave you up. You said you were raised by a loving family. You should have stayed with them.”
“My family might’ve loved me, but something was always missing. A hole in my heart that could never be filled. The day I finally met Martha, that hole started to heal.”
“What did Martha want from you? What did she ask of you? To keep your existence a secret, to hide in the shadows, probably for your own benefit until the time was right?” Poppy watched as Sophia’s calm composure started to fracture. She had hit a nerve.
“I’m afraid you’ve given yourself away. Martha told me how, when she told you about me and about the adoption, you wanted me to be kept a secret. You feared I’d ruin your tour and steal the spotlight from you. She promised me that once the tour was over, she would reveal my identity, but in the meantime, I had to stay with Calliope and play along.”
