Sophia’s POV

Alexander moves. He stretches his right hand, and a phone’s screen comes on.

Mine.

Unblinking, I stare at the screensaver—a picture of me hugging my dad.

My lungs shut instantly, dread warming my face.

What have I done?

“I need to take you home,” he mutters and drops the phone. But not before I see the time.

It’s 08:33 P.M.

Wait!

My heart suddenly drums.

Did he record us?

I join my hands together and begin digging a nail into my index finger, trying to replay what ...