About a year and a half after Elena’s father’s death, Elena was in the midst of a far bigger story than she’d ever broken—one she knew would invigorate her career and had the potential to launch her name far above Timothy’s. There was a risk that Timothy wouldn’t be able to handle her renown above his own, but it was a chance she had to take, especially after everything she’d gone through. She wasn’t sure if Timothy loved her anyway. She loved him, though. Pretty desperately. Maybe that was a sickness she had to get over.
Elena was at the office, typing her article furiously, checking and re-checking her notes and recorded interviews. Elena had spent more than a year gathering some near-perfect witnesses and sources for this article, one that spoke of corruption at a far higher level in the Syrian government, one that spoke of an impending bombing slated for next week. If Elena played her cards right, she could stop the bombing in its tracks—and bringabout a new era of prosperity in the region. In her greatest daydreams, she imagined that her article would end the war, that she’d ultimately save hundreds, if not thousands, of lives. It was every journalist’s dream.
Maybe it wasn’t entirely logical, but Elena had to feel like her career was for the good of humanity, especially now that her mother refused to talk to her. Especially now that Timothy—and her job—were all she had.
Elena couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept more than a couple of hours at a time.
Suddenly, Elena’s phone rang with a call from one of her sources. The source had never called her this late before, but Elena was programmed to handle anything, especially at this late stage of pre-publishing.
The source’s name was Noor, and she was the wife of a high-up official. Elena and Noor had become close friends over the past year, frequently sharing insecurities and fears. Elena hated how much of her own relationship she saw in Noor’s marriage, how her husband belittled her in much the same way Timothy had belittled Elena.I was supposed to be a strong woman, Elena thought now. But I’m so much weaker than my own mother.
Noor had bad news. “I’m getting nervous,” she said. “I don’t know if I want you to use my quotes any longer.”
Elena’s heart seized with panic. She was on her feet, walking back and forth, gesticulating as though Noor could see her. “You can’t let yourself get nervous. These quotes are essential for the entire story. We could save people, Noor. We could break this thing wide open. And like I said, I won’t be using your name.”
But Noor was sure that news of her “tattling” would get back to her husband, as well as other people connected to her husband, all of whom would hurt her if they found out. “I’mpregnant,” she confessed then, her voice very small. “I haven’t told anyone yet. I need to protect my baby.”
Elena thought she was alone in the office. She’d been alone at the office for the better part of five hours, working tirelessly in a way that reminded her of her mother atThe Millbrook Gazette. She began to speak rapidly, outlining their strategy, the importance of Noor’s quotes, and what would happen next. “You’ll be safe,” she told her, although they both knew that Elena couldn’t promise anything like that. “It’s going to be all right. We’ll do everything we can to protect you.”
And then, right when Noor had to get off the phone to tend to something at home, or maybe because her husband had woken up or come back, Elena turned on her heel and found Timothy watching her. He had his arms folded over his chest. His eyes were catlike. Elena’s chest heaved. How long had he been watching her? How long had he been listening?
But it’s just Timothy, she thought.I can trust him. He’s a fantastic journalist. He knows how essential it is to keep things under wraps.
But she cursed herself for her sloppiness. Someone had overheard her conversation with her top secret source.
“Hey,” she said to him, her voice wavering.
“Hey there.” Timothy sounded overly confident. “How’s your night?”
Elena glanced at the clock on the wall. “It’s three in the morning.”
“It certainly is,” Timothy said.
“You’re still working?” Elena asked.
Timothy shrugged. “You know it isn’t too weird for me to stay up for a story. It’s what we do, don’t we? We do everything for the rush of all this.”
“Of course.” Elena touched her hair and tried to find in his eyes proof that he knew more than he should. “Do you want to go home?”
“I was going to ask you the same thing,” Timothy said.
Elena forced a smile and told herself this was normal, that her boyfriend loved her and wanted to make sure she got to bed safely. She hurried to pack away her things and leave the office with Timothy by her side. But all the while, nausea crawled through her stomach, and she felt sure that nothing would be all right again.
Ultimately, Elena’s instincts were correct.
But it took a little while for everything to break apart. Over the next few days, Elena spoke tirelessly with Noor and her other sources, preparing to publish the story that would propel her career into the stratosphere. But in the meantime, Timothy was acting strangely. Elena couldn’t help but imagine what she thought was the worst. She assumed he was cheating on her, that he’d finally met someone else. Elena guessed it was Beverly, who was a whip-smart reporter a few years younger than Elena, with copper hair and almond eyes. She’d seen Beverly and Timothy flirting a few times, exchanging secrets in a way that made Elena think Timothy and Beverly were better suited to one another.
Elena wasn’t sure what her life would be like post-Timothy. She couldn’t imagine going back to the United States and facing her mother. She couldn’t imagine leaving her post as a war correspondent. Maybe, if Timothy wanted to date Beverly, Elena could get used to seeing them out and about. She could get used to Beverly taking her place.
But right before Elena felt brave enough to corner Timothy and ask him about his relationship with Beverly, Timothy came out with the truth.
“The story you’re about to break isn’t correct,” he said. “Not any longer.”
They were at the kitchen table, eating breakfast and reading the news. Elena yanked her head up to look at him. “How do you know anything about the story I’m about to break?” The story was already with the editor and slated for publication online that afternoon. It would be printed in all major newspapers by tomorrow morning. By tomorrow afternoon, she suspected that her name would be on the lips of all jealous reporters.
Timothy took a long sip of coffee and gave her a beady-eyed smile. “You’d better call your editor and tell him to cancel it.”
“And you’d better explain why you want me to do that,” Elena shot. “Unless it has everything to do with your ego and nothing to do with the truth.”
