Chapter 145
Nora's POV
Monday morning, I settled into my desk chair, the familiar hum of the NPR office wrapping around me like a worn coat.
Vincent appeared at my elbow before I'd finished logging in, coffee mug in one hand and his phone in the other. "Nora. Have you checked the numbers?"
I blinked at him. "What numbers?"
"Our disaster coverage." He set his phone on my desk, pulled up the analytics dashboard. "Single video hit 150,000 views. Social media reposts pushed the total views past 300,000."
The figure didn't register at first. I'd spent the past week documenting human suffering, not chasing clicks. "That's... a lot."
"The Federal Audit Office shared your report." Vincent's grin widened. "You made it onto their official communications page."
I'd filed the piece because it mattered, not because I expected bureaucratic validation. "It was teamwork. Your camera work carried the whole thing."
"Don't deflect." Vincent said. "Your on-site reporting was textbook-level field journalism. Own it."
Before I could protest further, Jacey knocked on my desk partition. "Team meeting in five. Good news."
---
The conference room smelled like burnt coffee and dry-erase markers. Jacey stood at the head of the table, holding a printed email with the NPR letterhead visible even from my seat.
"Official announcement." She looked directly at me. "The Federal Press Association named Nora and Vincent's joint coverage as this quarter's Outstanding In-Depth Reporting."
Applause erupted. Someone whistled. Vincent reached over to clap my shoulder so hard I nearly dropped my pen.
"It's not the Pulitzer," Bobby said, "but it's the biggest recognition this bureau's gotten all year. Tonight, we're celebrating. Department budget covers dinner."
"Nora should treat us!" someone called from the back.
"Vincent's got deeper pockets," another voice countered.
Vincent raised his hand in mock surrender. "Fine, I'll chip in."
I found my voice. "I'll contribute too. Everyone worked their asses off."
Jacey waved us down. "Nobody's going broke. This is an official celebration dinner, not a guilt trip. Six-thirty at River's Edge Grill. Don't be late."
The meeting dissolved into chatter. Everyone looked forward to the celebration after work.
---
River's Edge Grill occupied a brick building near the waterfront, all exposed beams and light bulbs. Our group claimed a long table. By the time I arrived, the surface was already crowded with fried chicken and grilled skewers.
Jacey raised her beer. "To Nora and Vincent—our stars of the quarter."
I raised my wine glass. The first drink went down smooth. Too smooth.
"I'm not a heavy drinker," I warned, setting the empty glass down. "Just so you know."
"Noted," Bobby said, already flagging the server for another round.
After the second glass, everyone shifted into casual mode. Griping about people they'd covered, or bizarre situations they'd encountered.
By the third glass, the edges of the room had gone soft. By the fourth, I couldn't feel my tongue.
An hour later, when everyone had eaten their fill, Bobby slid a glass of wine in front of me. "Last one. Then we call it."
I drained it because refusing felt rude. When I stood to use the restroom, the floor tilted. Jacey caught my elbow.
"You okay?"
"Fine." My voice came out slower than intended. "Just need some air."
She didn't look convinced. I steadied myself against the brick wall, made my way to the restroom, and splashed water on my face, trying to clear my head.
Jacey reappeared with her coat. "Looking at your state, you definitely can't get home on your own. I'll drive you. Where do you live?"
"RiverView Community." The words left my mouth before I could think.
But immediately I shook my head. "No. Can't go there."
"Why not?"
"They'll worry." I pressed my palms against the cold brick, forcing clarity. "Take me to Silver Ridge Estate."
---
The car stopped at the main gate of Silver Ridge Estate. I squinted at the guard station, my head spinning.
"Ma'am, I need to verify your identity." The guard leaned toward Jacey's window.
I mumbled, "Seventeen... number seventeen."
Jacey shot me a worried glance. "She's had too much to drink. I'm just dropping her off."
The guard checked his tablet. "Ms. Grey, outside vehicles cannot enter. You'll need to get out and scan your access card."
Shit. I pushed the door open, nearly stumbling as my foot hit the pavement. Jacey caught my elbow, preventing me from face-planting.
"You sure you don't want me to walk you in?" Her voice held genuine concern.
I waved her off, more forcefully than intended. "I'm... I'm fine. Really. A dog... a dog will come get me."
"What?"
"A dog." The words slipped out before I could stop them, and I giggled at my own brilliance. "A really big dog."
Jacey's expression shifted from worry to confusion, but I was already stumbling toward the guard booth, one hand gripping the doorframe for balance. My fingers fumbled in my coat pocket three times before finding the access card. The scanner beeped, and the screen flashed green: Nora Grey - Temporary Resident, Unit 17.
"Thank you, Ms. Grey." The guard's tone softened slightly. "Do you need assistance getting home?"
"Nope. I'm good."
Behind me, Jacey's engine idled. I turned and waved, my arm sweeping through the air like a conductor's baton. "Thanks, Jacey! See you tomorrow!"
She hesitated, clearly unconvinced, but finally drove away when the guard opened the exit lane for her. I watched her taillights disappear, then pulled out my phone. The screen swam in and out of focus as I navigated to the villa's call system.
Lily to gate, I opened the app and called into the microphone. I'm home.
I leaned against the guard booth's exterior wall, the brick cool against my back. My eyelids felt heavy, but I forced them open, scanning the path leading deeper into the estate.
Then I heard it—the rapid click-click-click of claws on pavement.
Lily bounded into view. She circled me once, tail wagging, then pressed her cold nose into my palm.
"Lily!" I dropped to my knees—too fast, my head spun—and threw my arms around her neck. She stood solid as a statue, letting me bury my face in her fur. "I missed you so much. Did you miss me?"
She licked my cheek, and I dissolved into giggles. "Okay, okay, that tickles—stop it!"
I tried to stand, but my center of gravity betrayed me. I plopped back down on the ground. Lily crouched low, nudging my waist with her head.
"Are you... are you trying to help me up?" I stared at her, then laughed again. "You're such a good girl."
With one hand fisted in her harness and the other braced on her shoulder, I hauled myself upright. My vision tilted, but Lily stayed planted, absorbing my weight without complaint.
"Okay." I took a deep breath, then another. "Let's go home."