Disclaimer: Not mine, just peeing in someone else's pool.
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Stay home, Sophia. Paint your nails, do your hair, do nothing useful, just so long as you stay home and let the grown ups do the work, Sophia. Let that lesbian bitch push you around; let the man who swears he loves you—who can look you in the eye and swear it without flinching—treat you like you have nothing but fluff between your ears. Just stay home, Sophia.
You would be safe at home, but you'll also be nothing but a clueless pawn. James moves you around an invisible game board, but you don't know his strategy. And now that you've seen that other passport, you're not sure you can trust it. Trust him.
That woman in the apartment called you "pretty". You feel pretty enough, in your fresh white cotton and vibrant red. This morning, you took care when you picked out your clothes—chose shoes that lengthened the line of your leg, brushed the knots from you hair, dabbed a little perfume behind your ears—because you knew you'd see James today. "Look at me", you wanted to say without speaking. You wanted him to see you, not whatever it is he sees when his eyes look right through you.
Now there's blood on your neck, in the corner of your eye. Your shirt is no longer so fresh thanks to the spatter, and there's a body at your feet, bleeding out onto the pavement. The man looking at you—really seeing you—didn't keep you safe at all when he took that shot.