MasukChapter 36: The Recording That Escaped*Sloane*The sender hadn't written to me again,after the last email. I checked every morning anyway. I opened the inbox before I'd even brushed my teeth, scrolled past the junk, and looked for that string of random letters. Nothing. *I wanted you to ask questions. Someone else wanted you to stop.* Those two lines had sat at the top of my saved folder for days, like a coin I couldn't spend.My editor had read them and said nothing for a full minute. Then she'd forwarded them to standards, told me not to reply, and told me not to try to trace them myself. I'd obeyed but It felt like holding my breath underwater.I couldn't just stand and do nothing. The review itself had begun. On Monday, I handed over a binder. On Tuesday, they'd asked for more. Meanwhile, the luncheon had gone out into the world, along with a hockey player named Nolan Pierce, who'd decided I was the reason Rhys couldn't skate. I'd seen the post. I'd seen the circled photogra
Chapter 35: The Weight of the C*Rhys*The stitched *C* on my chest felt heavier than usual.I'd never been a man who thought much about it. It was a letter. A piece of cloth. But that morning at practice, it sat on my jersey like a weight, and every time I breathed, I felt it press against my ribs.Everything was coming apart at once.The publicity mess. Damian's smile in the sponsor lounge. My father's name, back in the papers like a ghost somebody had dug up. I kept trying to take control of one thing, then another, and none of it would hold still.And the guys could tell.I knew they could. I'd seen it in the way they moved around me, the quick glances, the lowered voices in the locker room. I'd always been the one who kept things steady. Now I was the thing everyone watched.---Isaac Cole was the one who broke first.He was twenty-one, tall and quick, with a heavy shot and a big, open face that hid nothing. Jace to everyone since juniors, because a teammate had once mixed up hi
Chapter 34: Smile Like You Mean It*Rhys*"You want us to smile," I said."Yes.""At a charity luncheon.""Yes.""While someone's trying to destroy her career, and mine's one bad headline away from the sponsors' trash can."Marcus didn't flinch. "Exactly."I stared at him across the table in the team's media room. He'd brought coffee, which I took as a sign of desperation."The smartest thing we can do right now is disappear," I said. "Cancel everything. Let the complaint run its course, and come back when it's over.""That's the worst thing we could do.""Why?""Because the sponsors are nervous. Because rumors are already moving." He leaned forward. "People are asking whether the relationship is real. Whether it's falling apart. Whether there's something to hide. A well-handled appearance can stop that before it grows. A disappearance feeds it.""It's a *luncheon.*""It's a children's charity luncheon, already on the calendar, with cameras. We attend. We smile. We say a few warm wor
Chapter 33: The Woman Who Wouldn't Talk*Sloane*I went back to the housing story like a woman fleeing a burning building.For a whole week, I wanted nothing to do with anything that had the name Calloway on it. No photographs. No foundations. No fake smiles for cameras. Just buildings and permits and people who'd been told to leave their homes, and a story that belonged to me.My editor had agreed to let me keep working, with conditions. Every interview had to be logged. Every source had to be documented. Every draft would cross her desk before it went anywhere else.I was grateful, and I was determined to prove I deserved it. Whatever the publicity arrangement had done to my reputation, it hadn't touched my ability to do the work.I took the train to Queens before the sun was fully up.---The old building looked smaller than I remembered. The paint was still peeling, and the buzzer still didn't work. I stopped outside Mrs. Delgado's door, hesitated, and walked past it.She'd withd
Chapter 32: Her Problem, My Contract*Rhys*I'd been watching the same sixty seconds of game tape for an hour.It was the final minute of Thursday's loss. The pass to Jace, the shot, the miss. I rewound it again, frame by frame, looking for the moment I should have done something different.The door swung open without a knock."Rhys." Marcus looked like he hadn't slept. His shirt was wrinkled, his tie was crooked, and he held his phone in one hand like it was on fire. "We have a problem.""I'm busy.""It's about Sloane."I paused the video.Of course it was. Whatever disaster had landed on Marcus's desk at seven in the morning had to have her name on it somewhere. I leaned back in my chair."Let me guess. She's been digging into my father's history.""Rhys…""I told her to stay out of it. I told her twice.""It's more complicated than that.""It's not. She can't leave anything alone. She sees a closed door and she has to kick it down. What's she done now?"Marcus sat on the edge of t
Chapter 31: The Price of a Headline*Sloane*I couldn't stop looking at the picture.It lay on my editor's desk in a pool of lamplight: a gray, grainy image of my own hallway. My own door. My own body, bent at the waist, reaching for a plain white envelope.I'd stared at it for ten minutes, and it hadn't gotten any less impossible."I asked them to preserve it," I said, mostly to myself. "That same night. I called the night manager. I asked for a copy but I never got one.""And yet," my editor said."And yet."I wanted to put my fist through the glass wall of her office.She sat back in her chair, arms folded, face tired. It was almost eleven. Outside, the newsroom was dark except for a single row of lights near the copy desk, where someone's forgotten coffee had gone cold."Reyes," she said. "I need you to tell me everything. From the beginning. Don't leave anything out, even if you think it's irrelevant."So I did.I started with the anonymous email that had first mentioned Victor







