He takes another hard turn, and I see one photographer’s car get stuck behind a delivery truck.
“Yes!” I cheer, then immediately feel ridiculous.
Nick’s jaw is clenched tight, but there’s something almost amused in his voice. “Where now?”
“Straight for two blocks, then left at the old church.”
We lose another car at a stop sign, but the black SUV is persistent.
“Shit, he’s calling others,” Nick says, seeing the driver on his phone.
My stomach drops. “They’re coordinating?”
“Welcome to my world.” He takes another sharp turn. “Actually, no. This is worse than usual.”
My phone pulls my attention away. I glance down at a text.
Blaire
Where are you?
Julie
I’m heading to my condo.
Blaire
DON’T. Media circus downtown. I just heard someone say you’re on Main Street.
Julie
How did they know?
Blaire
No idea. All these photographers have been huddling outside of the shop since this morning.
Julie
Ugh. We’re being chased by photographers. I’ll keep you updated.
Blaire
You’d BETTER!
“We can’t go to my place. Blaire said downtown is packed. Let’s go to Autumn’s. It’s the most private. I have the code to the gate.”
Nick takes the next turn, but two cars follow. He speeds up, taking random turns until we lose them, then heads up the mountain to Hollow Manor.
When we make it to the private gate, he punches in the code, and it jolts open. Nick drives through, stopping to make sure the metal snaps closed before taking off. Colorful leaves line the paved road that winds up to the mansion.
As soon as we park, Autumn opens the door and walks to the edge of the porch, wrapping the cardigan tighter around her thin frame.
“What the hell is happening? We’ve been watching the news.”
“The news?” My voice goes up an entire octave. “Why do they care?”
“You’re the talk of the town.”
