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

notepad. “It’s the ‘journalist’.

Enter title…

“A fake?” Anton asks.

phone and scrolls through it rapidly. “Hang

slip of paper from my hand where he

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

god. This isn’t

good?” Anton’s eyes are

mortified. “The number I gave you, Abby,

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

must have clicked the wrong link,”

eerily similar to a locally renowned journalism site is displayed. “I

like the real

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