Chapter 76
Nora's POV
Silence stretched between us through the phone screen. My throat felt tight. I didn't know what to say—didn't know how to defend myself without making it worse.
Julian's voice came through soft, without accusation, but the weight of it landed all the same. "You keep me at arm's length, Nora. But with Phillips..." He trailed off, letting the implication hang there.
"I treat him like a friend. That's it!"
"Do you?" He tilted his head slightly, eyes holding mine through the screen.
"That's not—"
"Forget it." His shoulders dropped. "Arguing about this doesn't change anything."
The defeat in his voice made my chest ache. I thought about him standing in front of that motorcycle, throwing himself between me and danger without hesitation. I thought about the way he'd shielded me with his own body, asking if I was hurt before he even checked himself.
And now he looked... down. Vulnerable in a way that didn't suit him.
"Julian, Phillips and I will only ever be friends. Nothing else is possible."
The shift in his mood was obvious—his lips curved slightly upward. "Nora, get some rest."
"You too."
"Goodnight."
"Goodnight."
The call ended. I stared at the blank screen for a long moment before flopping face-first onto my bed. I grabbed my pillow, buried my face in it, and let out a muffled groan.
I actually felt bad because he was down.
---
The next morning, I walked into NPR's office building feeling almost normal again. Last night's conversation had left me unsettled, but daylight and coffee had a way of making things seem less complicated.
I pulled out my phone as I waited for the elevator.
Nora: Good morning. 🌤️
His reply came almost instantly.
Julian: Morning. Sleep well?
Nora: Better than you, probably. How's Pepper?
Julian: She spent the night screaming. I'm running on fumes.
I smiled despite myself and pocketed my phone as the elevator doors opened. The fifth floor was already buzzing with mid-morning energy—keyboards clicking, phones ringing, people huddled around desks trading notes.
I'd just set my bag down when Jacey appeared at my cubicle.
"Grey. Conference room. You're covering the Rust Belt Revival Forum this morning."
I blinked. "What?"
"Social innovation summit at the Silverton Convention Center. Ruby and Vincent will walk you through the process—real experience will help you improve faster." She checked her watch. "Don't be late."
Though confused, I nodded. "Got it."
---
Ruby Hill was waiting in the conference room when I arrived, arms crossed, expression cool and assessing. She looked up as I entered, lips curving into something sharp.
"Grey. First day on the job and already covering a high-profile summit." Her tone was light, but the edge underneath it wasn't. "Jacey must really be impressed with you."
Vincent Woods sat across from her, looking uncomfortable. "Morning, Nora. Have a seat."
I pulled out a chair without acknowledging Ruby's comment. "What's the assignment?"
Vincent slid a folder toward me. "The forum starts at noon. You'll be covering the media workshop in Hall C—investigative techniques, policy communication, that kind of thing. Just take notes and file a summary by end of day."
"Sounds straightforward."
Ruby's voice cut in, smooth and poisonous. "I heard you made quite a few enemies at DSW, Grey. All that 'not afraid to die' attitude—doesn't exactly make you popular."
I looked at her evenly. "I was doing my job."
"Right. Your job." She leaned back, studying me like I was something unpleasant. "The kind that gets reports buried and supervisors angry. That approach won't get you far at NPR."
Vincent cleared his throat. "Alright, let's—"
Ruby kept going. "Just friendly advice. You might want to learn how to play the game before you burn more bridges."
I forced myself to stay calm, jaw tight. "Thanks for the tip."
Her smile widened, satisfied.
Vincent stood abruptly. "We should get going. Traffic's going to be hell."
I grabbed my notebook and followed him out, Ruby trailing behind us with an air of smug superiority.
This is going to be a long day.
---
The car ride to Silverton was excruciating. Ruby sat in the passenger seat scrolling through her phone, occasionally making pointed comments about "journalists who think idealism pays the bills." Vincent drove in tense silence, shooting me apologetic looks in the rearview mirror whenever Ruby got particularly cutting.
I tuned her out as best I could and pulled out my phone.
Julian: [Image: Pepper sprawled across his desk, tiny paws dangling over a stack of papers, eyes half-closed in contentment.]
Julian: She destroyed my morning. I haven't slept. This is your fault.
Despite everything, I smiled.
Nora: You worried she wouldn't make it through the night. Should I remind you that you wanted to keep her?
Julian: I'm starting to regret that decision.
Nora: You could find someone to help. A pet sitter, maybe.
Julian: Are you offering?
My fingers hovered over the keyboard. Don't take the bait. Don't—
Nora: ...Just asking if you needed help.
Julian: So you're concerned about me?
Nora: Don't push your luck.
Julian: You had a moment of conscience and now you're being nice to me. I'll take it.
I stared at the screen, not sure how to respond. Before I could figure it out, Vincent pulled into the convention center parking lot.
"Here we go," he muttered.
Ruby was already out of the car, heels clicking against the pavement as she strode toward the entrance without waiting.
Vincent glanced back at me. "Stick close. Ignore her. She's like this with new people."
"Noted."
He sighed. "Come on. Let's get this over with."
---
The Silverton Convention Center was more grand than I'd imagined. Crystal chandeliers hung from high ceilings, elaborate floral arrangements decorated every corner, and well-dressed attendees milled about with coffee cups and materials folders, engaged in conversation.
The morning's main session was in Hall A—the mayor gave remarks, various officials took turns speaking about "media responsibility" and "social innovation." I sat in the back taking notes, listening to those lofty platitudes, feeling like I was watching a carefully choreographed performance.
Lunch was a buffet spread out in the banquet hall. I looked at the lobster, steaks, and elaborate desserts, thought about residents living on assistance, and felt a surge of irony.
I took a few photos and posted to social media.
> "First time witnessing such a large-scale 'poverty industry expo.' Main hall talks about 'media responsibility,' side halls sell 'social innovation,' and the lobster at the buffet costs more than Cold Creek's annual assistance budget. "
> 📷 [Photo 1: venue panorama, crystal chandeliers and elaborate florals]
> 📷 [Photo 2: an "AI-driven system" booth, participation fee marked at $50,000]
Almost immediately, my phone buzzed.