The familiar tightness creeps into my chest, a belt slowly cinching around my lungs. I close my eyes and focus on my breathing.
In for four, hold for four, out for four. Just like my therapist taught me.
No one at KBVR knows about the panic attacks. Not even Zoe.
They started after the accident six months ago that rewired my brain to think that every car ride might be my last. It’s why I missed seeing Jonah play Brooks when the Blizzards took on the Trout last season. I told everyone I had the flu, but really, I couldn’t make myself get on the freeway to Boise.
The attack subsides, leaving me feeling hollow and slightly nauseated.
I’m organizing my notes for tomorrow’s weather segment when my phone buzzes with a text. I expect it to be Zoe with more gossip, or maybe my mom asking if I’m still coming for our regular Sunday dinner.
Instead, the name on the screen makes my heart stutter.
BONEHEAD BROOKSIE.
I stare at it for a solid ten seconds before opening the message.
The text is just five words.
BONEHEAD BROOKSIE: We need to talk. ASAP.
My fingers hover over the keyboard.
ME:Is everything okay? Is Maisie all right?
Three dots appear, disappear, then:
BONEHEAD BROOKSIE:Just come over. Please.
Please? From Brooks Kingston?
Now I’mreally scared.
ME:I’ll be there as fast as I can.
A chill runs through me that has nothing to do with this morning’s frozen lake. Brooks wouldn’t text me unless something was wrong. And the only thing we have in common is...
Maisie.
Oh god. Has something happened to her? My mind races through worst-case scenarios—hospitalization again, a fall, bad test results.
I grab my purse and jacket, texting back with trembling fingers.
ME: On my way. Is Maisie ok?
I don’t wait for his response before heading to Rick’s office. He looks up from his computer, surprised.
“I need to go,” I blurt out. “Family emergency. I’ve already drafted tomorrow’s weather report, and the evening segment can use the standard graphics if I’m not back in time.”
To his credit, Rick doesn’t ask questions. “Go. We’ve got it covered.”
I fish out my keys, my hand shaking. Whatever this is about, it can’t be good.
The enemy territory just became a lot more complicated.
6
The Proposition
