Julia’s POV
I never believed in clairvoyants. Tarot cards? Scams. Palm readings? Child's play. So when Beatrice insisted on flying in some i********:-famous psychic to help me, I was convinced she'd lost her mind.
The night Sophie died, it should have been me. But luck, if you could call it that, decided otherwise. Now, as I sit in my penthouse waiting for this so-called clairvoyant, all I can think about is the absurdity of it all.
The police were quick to wrap up Sophie’s body and take it to the morgue, they interrogated each and everyone of us. I had been finding it hard to sleep since that night, I mean how could I?
Images of how the fire from the explosion spread all over and soared into the sky made my skin crawl. The memory was imprinted in my mind. Sophie didn’t deserve to di
