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

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

Enter title…

“A fake?” Anton asks.

through it rapidly. “Hang on. Let me check something real quick.”

the slip of paper from my hand where he had scribbled Alex’s number earlier. His

the paper for a few moments, his face slowly losing even more of

This isn’t

Anton’s eyes are practically saucers

number I gave you, Abby, isn’t the real Alex’s

can that be?” I can feel the tension knotting up in

must have clicked the wrong link,” Karl confesses, showing us

renowned journalism site is

It looks like the

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