Not So Perfect

Sophie

    Angela takes a step back, her eyes widening in a surge of panic. She doesn't want to be seen, not now, not by him. There, amidst the uniformed officers, stood her father, his expression a mask of stern authority. A wave of icy dread washes over her. It's now or never.

A warm hand on her back makes her turn. Tony stands there, his smile reassuring, his eyes filled with unwavering support. She quickly leans into him, burying her face in his chest, seeking the familiar comfort he always provides. How is it that only his presence can quell the storm raging within her?

"Who is this, honey?" Her father's voice, laced with a forced calm, cuts through the tense silence.

Angela pulls away from Tony, her gaze meeting her father's. Confusion and a flicker of something she can't quite decipher play across his face. Before she can answer, an officer's hand grips her arm, his touch firm and insistent.

"Ms. Torres, please, let's get you into the interrogation room," the officer says, his voice devoid of emotion.

She and her father are led down the hallway, the fluorescent lights casting long, distorted shadows, into a small, sterile room. A man sits across a black, featureless table. He rises as they enter.

"My name is Detective Collin," the man introduces himself, his voice smooth and professional.

"This is Mr. Torres, and my daughter, Angela Torres," her father states, his tone tight.

"I'm sorry for the way things had to be done," Detective Collin says, his gaze shifting between Angela and her father. "But we are dealing with a sensitive situation."

Angela's breath catches in her throat. Sensitive? What did that even mean in this context? A chilling premonition settles in her stomach.

"What kind of sensitive situation?" her father asks, his voice laced with suspicion.

"As you know, we are investigating the disappearance of Sophie Mendez," Detective Collin begins, his eyes fixed on Angela. "And we have reason to believe that Angela might have some information that could help us."

Angela's heart pounds against her ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the silence. Information? She has far too much information, secrets that could unravel everything. She has an idea of what could have happened, a horrifying, sickening idea, but she's terrified to face the truth.

"Information?" her father repeats, his brow furrowed. "What possible information could my daughter have?"

"We're hoping she can tell us," Detective Collin replies, his gaze unwavering. "Ms. Torres, do you know Sophie Mendez?"

"Yes," Angela says, her voice steady, though a tremor runs through her. "I know Sophie Mendez. She's a resident at the women's shelter where I volunteer."

Her father nods, his expression unreadable. "As you do," he says, his voice flat.

Detective Collin leans forward, his gaze intense. "And you've been interacting with her regularly?"

"Yes," Angela says, trying to sound helpful. "She's been a resident for a few months now. We talk. I try to help her."

"Help her with what, specifically?" Detective Collin asks, his gaze unwavering.

Angela takes a deep breath. "She's experiencing... difficulties," she says, choosing her words carefully. "She's looking for resources. Information about housing, job opportunities, things like that." She omits the details of the fear, the whispered pleas for safety.

"Did she ever mention anyone who might want to hurt her?" Detective Collin asks, his voice low and probing.

Angela's heart pounds. This is the crucial question. "No," she says, her voice firm. "She didn't mention anyone specific. But... she was scared. She was very scared."

"Scared of what?" Detective Collin presses.

"She didn't say," Angela says, her voice tight. "Just... scared. Of... things. Of her situation."

"And did she ever give you any indication of where she might go?" Detective Collin asks, his gaze unwavering.

Angela shakes her head. "No. She's very private. She doesn't trust easily. She told me to not tell anyone about her situation."

"Did she mention any family or friends?" Detective Collin asks.

"No," Angela says, her voice low. "She said she was alone."

"And you have no idea why she might have disappeared while still a resident?" Detective Collin asks, his voice laced with suspicion.

Angela hesitates. "No," she says, her voice barely a whisper. "But... if you find her, please... please let me know. I'm worried about her." She adds the last part as a feigned concern, to see how much they know, and to gauge their reaction.

Detective Collin's gaze sharpens. "You're worried about her," he repeats, his voice flat, his eyes boring into Angela's. "That's good. Because it's not just Sophie we're looking for."

Angela's breath hitches. "What do you mean?" she asks, her voice barely a whisper, a cold dread creeping up her spine.

"Sophie's infant daughter, Ellie, is also missing," Detective Collin says, his voice devoid of emotion. "She was last seen with her mother. We believe they left the shelter together."

The air in the room thickens, the silence heavy with unspoken fear. Angela's mind races, a horrifying image forming in her mind. Sophie, desperate and terrified, taking her baby and running. Running from what? From whom? The thought of Ellie, so small and vulnerable, sends a wave of nausea through her.

"Ellie?" Angela repeats, her voice trembling, the name catching in her throat with a raw, almost maternal concern that's far too intense for a casual acquaintance. 

 "And... and you think they left together?" she asks, her voice strained, the concern for the baby overriding any attempt at composure.

"It's our working theory," Detective Collin says, his gaze unwavering, his eyes narrowing slightly as he observes Angela's reaction. "There was no sign of forced entry, no indication of foul play at the shelter. They simply weren't there when staff checked in the morning."

"But... but that doesn't mean..." Angela begins, her voice trailing off, her eyes pleading. She knows more than she's letting on, far more.

"No, it doesn't," Detective Collin says, his voice hard. "But it doesn't mean it's not either. We're exploring all possibilities. And we need your help."

"My help?" Angela asks, her voice barely a whisper, the desperation in her eyes betraying more than she intends.

"Think, Ms. Torres," Detective Collin says, his voice laced with urgency. "Anything. Any detail, no matter how small, could be crucial. Did Sophie ever mention a specific location, a friend, a relative? Anyone she trusted?"

Angela's mind races, a whirlwind of memories and unspoken fears. She knows where Sophie might have gone, who she might have trusted. But revealing that information would expose a secret she's kept hidden for too long. "She didn't trust easily," Angela repeats, her voice trembling, the lie heavy on her tongue. "She didn't tell me anything."

"Think harder, Ms. Torres," Detective Collin says, his voice sharp, his eyes unwavering. "A child's life, a baby's life, could depend on it. And frankly, your reaction to this case, is making me think you know more than you are saying."