Page 73 of Circle of Strangers
“Camille, have you heard from Sozi lately?” Mara asks.
My breath hitches, but I force a neutral expression. “No, why?”
Mara’s brows knit. “She’s got packages piling up at her door. I’ve never seen that happen, not in all the years we’ve lived here.”
Oscar shifts uncomfortably, glancing toward the house. “Maybe she’s just out of town.”
I exchange a quick look with Will, who remains composed—too composed. His gaze meets mine with a quiet warning not to say anything.
“I haven’t heard from her,” I say. “Not for a few days, now that you mention it.”
Mara peers toward Sozi’s house again, her mouth twisting at one side.
“It’s weird,” she muses, more to herself than to us.
Oscar nudges her. “Let’s just take the packages inside. Put them in her garage like we did last time she went out of town. Assuming the code hasn’t changed.”
If the Morenos see Sozi’s car in the garage, they’ll know she’s not out of town. They’ll know Sozi hasn’t gone anywhere. And if Mara tells any other neighbors on Saguaro Circle about those packages and the police get involved—the text messages between Sozi and me will be the first thing they uncover.
I’ll be their first suspect.
My jaw clenches so tight it sends a shock of pain up the side of my head.
The Morenos aren’t going to sit idly by. When they realize Sozi hasn’t returned for days, weeks, or months ... they’re going to say something.
It’s only a matter of time before this plays out—in the worst way.
I only wish I knew how much time I had.
Later that night, after the kids are in bed, I find Will at the kitchen table, scrolling through something on his laptop. I take the chair across from him, my hands folded in my lap, shoulders straight and head held high.
“We need to talk about the cameras,” I say.
Will’s eyes lift slowly from his screen, unreadable. “What about them?”
“If ours weren’t working, maybe the Morenos’ or Sozi’s cameras caught something—like her coming over and not leaving.”
Will’s expression doesn’t change, but something flickers in his eyes—something dark. “The Morenos’ cameras don’t reach our driveway. Oscar mentioned that back when Mara went missing.”
I bite my lip. “Sozi’s?”
He closes the laptop with a soft click, as if sealing the conversation. “I disabled them.”
A cold knot tightens in my throat. “How?”
Will leans back in his chair, folding his arms. “I used her fingerprint to unlock her security app, then I deleted the videos from that day—and the ones before it—then I disabled the camera altogether.”
The room suddenly feels smaller, more suffocating than ever.
“So there’s no proof of her coming here?” I ask. “No footage?”
He shakes his head slowly, his gaze never leaving mine. “None.”
The weight of what he’s just said settles over me, cold and heavy. He’s thought of everything. Every loose thread tied off. Every piece of evidence wiped away.
There’s a chanceI’veunderestimatedhim.
“Camille, can I say something?” His words are as cold and haunting as the look in his eyes. “You’ve been so understanding with everything, and I just wanted to thank you for that. I know it hasn’t been easy. And it’s not going to be easy. But knowing we’re on the same page, that you trust my decisions ...”
