Jared
Aweek after applying for the position at The Chronicle, I sit at my tiny kitchen table, laptop open, and knee bouncing while I wait for my video interview with the editor, Kendra, to start. Drawing a steadying breath, I run my thumb over the fabric of my shirt to feel the familiar stone of the necklace I’ve always worn hidden beneath the crisp fabric. The gold chain and amber stone have long since become a familiar weight around my neck and, in the months since my attack, touching the pendant has helped ground me when I’m feeling overwhelmed.
While I’m not exactly nervous for the interview—I’m more than qualified for the job—I am concerned my lack of references will hurt my chances. I could hardly ask Corbin when he’s the one who forced me to take a break, and The Ledger is the only newspaper I’ve worked at. Hopefully my past performance reviews, along with the examples of my work I sent, will be enough for Kendra to overlook my lack of professional recommendations.
The screen flickers, the virtual waiting room replaced with a video feed. I’m not sure what I’d been expecting from Kendra, but the petite woman with golden-brown skin and candyfloss-pink hair isn’t it. She looks young for such a senior position,maybe early thirties, which means behind her sweet appearance must be a dagger-sharp mind and rigorous work ethic.
“Jared, it’s lovely to meet you. I’m Kendra, the editor here at The Chronicle. How are you?”
“I’m well, thank you. And yourself?”
“Truthfully? You’re my last interview of the day, and I’m hoping you nail it so I can fill the position before the town’s next big event.”
“I’ll do my best to impress you.”
Her green eyes sparkle with amusement. “Good. Now your CV says you’ve worked at The Ledger for a long time, why leave now?”
I swallow the lump in my throat and roll back my shoulders. I’ve been expecting some version of this question and prepared my answer accordingly. “While I’m grateful for the opportunities I’ve had at The Ledger, I’ve reported on a lot of tragedies during my years here—after a while that takes a toll. I’m ready for a change both personally and professionally. The entertainment reporter position at The Chronicle is the perfect way to pivot.”
“And you’re willing to leave London? You’re only twenty-eight, you won’t miss the social scene?”
“I won’t deny going to my fair share of gigs here, I love live music, but most of my time’s been taken up with work. I think moving to a small town will help me find a better work/life balance.”
She nods, seeming happy enough with that answer.
We go back and forth a little longer before she leans back in her office chair. “Alright, while not having a reference is a little unusual, we understand life can get complicated. Our town does its best to welcome new residents, and the performance reviews you provided were all glowing. Add in the examples of your work, and it’s safe to say we’d be lucky to have you on our team.”
“Does this mean…?”
“Welcome to The Crystal Lake Chronicle, Jared.”
Wait. “Crystal Lake?” I croak. When I applied for the position, I never imagined it would end up being in the very town I’m searching for. I’m not usually one to put much stock in things like fate, but maybe this is a sign that looking into Garrett’s hometown is the right move.
“Yes, the job’s in Crystal Lake.” Kendra looks at me like she’s reevaluating my abilities and my sanity.
Pull yourself together. “Sorry, the job ad I saw didn’t mention the town’s name, just that The Chronicle is a small town paper,” I explain. “An old friend is from Crystal Lake, so hearing the name surprised me.”
She cocks her head, intrigued. “What’s their name? I might know them.”
“Garrett Conall.”
Kendra’s moss-green eyes widen in surprise. I know the town’s small, but I didn’t expect her to know Garrett. Maybe he’s still working as a bartender. It’d make sense for them to have crossed paths if he’s a fixture at one of the local watering holes—there can’t be too many options in a town that size. “I see. Well, we’d love to have you join us here at The Chronicle. What do you say?”
My lips widen in an eager smile. “When can I start?”
I started packing the moment yesterday’s video call with Kendra ended. The task was a welcome distraction, but after another nightmare last night, I needed more than that to file down the rough edges of my nerves this morning. Fortunately, spending a punishing couple of hours at the gym has me feeling more settled when I step back inside my flat.
Showered and in a fresh change of clothes, I head through to the kitchen armed with boxes and bubble wrap. I’ve only just begun pulling out the items I don’t use as often when my phone rings.
Seeing Corbin’s name on the screen, I rush to answer. “Hello.”
“What’s this I hear about you accepting a job at an obscure small town newspaper?”
“How did you—” I shake my head, clearing my thoughts. “Never mind. Yes, I have. While I respect what you’re trying to do for me, I don’t agree with it. I think getting out of London for a bit will do me some good.”
“I told you to take a break, not run off to work at the first place that would hire you,” Corbin snaps, and his tone instantly raises my hackles.
“A break is the last thing I need.”
