“Yes, everything.Makeup, fresh underwear, and a comb.Look inside.”He gestures with an open hand.
“Thank you.You’re my lifesaver.”I pull out my beauty pouch, feeling a rare bubble of calm wash over me.
“Hey, what about Peter and Alan?”Laird asks, curiosity coloring his voice.
“Oh, you’ll see.”Jessy grabs the TV remote and turns on the main channel.
“Viewers, last night Peter Morgan, Massachusetts senator, was arrested by a joint FBI and prosecutor team.Charges include corruption, money laundering, and support for organized crime,”a female anchor reports, microphone close to her chin, serious expression fixed.
“Peter’s crimes shocked the international community, particularly among celebrities, designers, and artists, including Mallory West, Jemima Hors, Oscar de Ragetti, and more.His wife and brother-in-law were also arrested at the gala.Joining us now is Malcolm Golden from the federal prosecutor’s office.”
The camera shifts to a face I know well.The old man looks the same—sharp, stern eyes of a veteran prosecutor.The man who once cared for Laird, who’d sacrifice a shirt or a hand for others, is gone.Only the authoritative senior public officer remains.My chest tightens at the thought.
“Mr.Golden, can you outline the chronology of Peter Morgan’s arrest?”
“We conducted a meticulous covert operation.The FBI and our informants worked hard to achieve the best results.”He narrows his eyes, like he’s forced to speak.
“Is it true Peter Morgan took Massachusetts government funds and demanded commissions from construction projects?”
“I can’t answer now.We are still investigating, preparing the indictment, and reporting to superiors.Details will be disclosed at trial.”
“Did they cover Mallory or Alan?”I ask, curiosity pricking my voice.
“Everywhere.But you’ll get pissed seeing it,” Jessy says, flipping channels.Every news and entertainment station covers the story from multiple angles.
“Stop criminalizing artists!We stand with Mallory!”protesters shout.
Other segments show counter-demonstrations.My stomach churns.Even now, the world doesn’t care about our lives.Those fans only care about their idol, defending without knowing the truth.
I snatch the remote and turn it off.After all we’ve been through, after seeing Laird suffer, they’re still blinded by the mask.It’s so unfair.My hands shake slightly.Jessy’s eyes widen.
“Enough.We get it.Laird needs rest,” I say firmly, letting myself lean back and finally breathe.
“Yes, you’re right, dear.”
35
Shut It Down
Fenella
“Okay, easy,” Lloyd says, steadying Laird.
We wait while Laird climbs the stairs, slow and cautious, one step at a time.The wound on his stomach still hasn’t fully healed, but the doctor cleared him to go home.Luckily, Lloyd’s here.They’re about the same build, so he supports him while I carry his clothes upstairs.
“Here we are.”Lloyd helps him sit on the bed, letting out a small sigh.
“Thanks, man,” Laird says.
“Yeah, no problem.”Lloyd nods, glancing at me with a half-smile.“I hope you accept that your room’s here now, not the house across the street.”
My cheeks burn.I clear my throat, pretending not to notice his teasing.Now that Lloyd knows Laird stayed at my place for almost two weeks without saying a word, he’s been teasing us nonstop on the way home.
“It can’t be helped.It’s fate,” Laird says with a grin, settling back against the headboard.
“Well, I hope you’ll be fine with Mrs.Myers taking care of you.I know you’d rather have her,” he tilts his head at me, “looking after you every day, but she should be gone before our dad gets home.”Lloyd’s tone turns sharp, almost parental.
“Why don’t we just let her stay as long as she wants?”Laird challenges Lloyd's gaze with a deep crease on his forehead.
