Abby

“Excuse me, I don’t mean to interrupt,” I say, offering ‘Alex’ a tense smile as I walk up to her and Anton. “I

just need to speak with Anton for a moment.”

“Um, sure,” Alex says, scribbling something else on her notepad. “Take your time.”

Throwing her another grin, I snatch Anton by the arm and signal for Karl to follow. I lead them to a

secluded corner of the kitchen, away from the prying ears of the mysterious ‘journalist’. My heart pounds

in my chest.

“Is everything okay, Abby?” Anton asks, looking a little pale. “I hope I did not say the wrong things—”

“No, Anton, you were great,” I whisper, glancing over my shoulder at Alex, who is staring at the

furiously on her notepad. “It’s the ‘journalist’. She’s

Enter title…

“A fake?” Anton asks.

takes out his phone and scrolls through it rapidly. “Hang on. Let me check

from my hand where he had scribbled Alex’s number earlier. His eyes dart

phone screen and the paper for a few moments, his face

This

What’s not good?” Anton’s eyes are practically

looks mortified. “The number I gave you, Abby, isn’t the real Alex’s number. It’s a

I can feel the tension knotting up in my stomach, making me feel

wrong link,” Karl confesses, showing us his phone

locally renowned journalism site is

It looks like the

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