It was then that Landon came through the door.He wore a silly red windbreaker, one he’d had since they were children, and his cheeks were the same hue, as though he’d spent hours outdoors.“Come on,” he said, delivering that mischievous grin.“Nobody needs you right now.They’re all, like, bird-watching.”
Celia giggled, glanced back at Ivy through the dining room door, put up a sign that said “Be right back!”and hurried after Landon, putting on her coat as they ran.
“I’ve had a crazy day,” Landon told her, moving faster than he normally did, his feet blurry beneath them.“I was researching this article about the first whalers in Bluebell Cove?And my mom told me about the records’ office at city hall.I went down there, but the lady wouldn’t give me anything.She told me I was too young to handle ‘delicate files.’”
Celia stopped short on the sidewalk.A frigid wind blasted her face.“There’s a records office?”Why hadn’t she ever heard about this?She wondered if they had files about the Smith Company and everything it had been up to over the years.Her proof regarding its illegality was flimsy at best.“We have to get in there.”
Landon chased her, following her into the city hall and down the stairs.Down there was a plump and stoic-looking twentysomething named Melody, who cast them a cruel stare and said, “You again?”
Celia resented that Landon had come with her.She wasn’t sure how to explain herself to Melody without alerting Landon to what she was up to.Maybe she could be imprecise.
She had to put on her very best and most adult voice.She had to manipulate.
“My name is Celia, and I’m a journalist with theBluebell Cove Gazette,” she said, naming the adult-run newspaper rather than the high school one.Lying was key.“I’m currently researching the long and storied happenings at the Smith Company.It’s an article requested by Mr.Gavin Smith himself, the current CEO.”
Melody blinked twice at Celia.“Mr.Smith himself sent you?”
“That’s right.”
Melody cut her gaze back toward Landon, then said, “He can’t come in with you.”
Celia breathed a sigh of relief.“That’s fine,” she said.She didn’t look back at Landon as she followed Melody deeper into the aisles, eager to get her hands on something to penetrate the black cloud that was the Smith Company.When she was sure that Melody wasn’t watching her, she turned and mouthed to Landon, “Let’s catch up later?I’ll tell you everything.”But she had no plans to tell Landon everything, at least not till the article was perfect.He shrugged, pretending he wasn’t hurt, although she knew he was.
She still didn’t want him to get the hint that she and Hanson had ever been in love.
She didn’t want the shame that brought.
She wanted him always to think what he currently thought—that she was the coolest, prettiest, and smartest girl in town.
The files for the Smith Company extended five feet wide and three feet tall, making up most of the records’ office in that dark and strange basement.Celia thanked Melody and dove in immediately, reading ancient contracts that her high school brain couldn’t make complete sense of.She perused photographs of Hanson’s great-great-grandfather standing next to the then mayors of Bluebell Cove.She perused bills of sale, proof that the Smith family’s reach grew wider with each passing decade.But still, she couldn’t find anything that indicated they were doing anything “wrong.”At least, her novice eyes couldn’t see it.
Three and a half hours after she’d begun her research, Melody came back to find her.“You’ve been at this a long time.”She crossed her arms.
Celia groaned.“I can’t find what I’m looking for.”
“And what is that?”Melody arched a single eyebrow.
Celia couldn’t find a reason not to tell this perfect stranger some version of the truth.“I know the Smith family is up to something.I know they don’t have the town of Bluebell’s interests at heart.But I can’t prove it.Or I don’t know what I’m looking for to prove it.”
Melody stuck out her hip and clicked the heel of her shoe against the ground.Celia raised her eyes to watch her.
“Honey,” Melody said, “why didn’t you say something earlier?I could have pointed you in the right direction like that.”She snapped her fingers.
Celia couldn’t fathom why this woman wanted to help her.But Melody smiled and, under her breath, whispered, “I used to work the books over at the Smith Company.They’re about as crooked as they come.But the biggest mistake they made was firing me.They made me sign an NDA, of course.But the NDA didn’t say anything about sending a young and bright journalist like yourself in the right direction.”She winked and opened the relevant drawer before marching away.
Celia was out of her mind with surprise.
What she discovered in that drawer couldn’t have been put there on purpose by anyone in the Smith family.There was proof that they’d cooked the books to avoid taxation, proof of fraud, proof of pushing other companies out, and proof of bribing various members of government to ensure they could continue to build in areas meant to be protected for environmental reasons.She wondered if Melody herself had been instrumental in ensuring that these documents were here, ready proof for a journalist like Celia.
Celia busied herself at the copier, watching as the proof slid out on more and more pieces of paper, spreading.When she finished, she thanked Melody, who pressed her finger to her lips and reminded her, “If anyone ever learns that you’re up to this, they’ll make you pay.Please, be careful, honey.But get even for me, won’t you?I hate them down to my guts.”
* * *
For weeks, Celia worked tirelessly on her takedown of the Smith family.She pored over the documents Melody had given her, outlining a corrupt and evil family who’d destroyed numerous lives and planned to “rule” Bluebell Cove as though it were a kingdom and not the United States.In this place, everyone was meant to have a chance.Her article was sleek, hard-hitting, and built on factual evidence.She saved it on her at-home computer, on the computer at school, and on a floppy disk.She also printed it out, terrified that technology would fail her.
A week before she planned to pitch the idea to her newspaper staff, she returned to Bluebell Cove to take over the front desk for Ivy, something she was trying to get better at doing, especially now that she was so close to her departure for Georgetown.Her autumn dorm room was calling her name, as was her brand-new life.She could taste change on the horizon.
But when she entered the inn, she found her father at the front desk instead of Ivy.His face was ashen, and he glowered at Celia with more rage than she’d ever seen.“My office,” he said, pointing behind him.“Now.”
