Chapter 89
Nora's POV
I froze, turning to see Henry standing there.
"Henry?" I said in surprise. "What are you doing here?"
"I'm representing the City Hall office," he explained, taking a few steps closer. "I didn't expect to run into you here."
He stepped closer. "I knew NPR would be covering this event. When I saw your station's name on the press list, I figured you might show up." He glanced at Vincent, who was adjusting his camera strap. "Is this your colleague?"
"Vincent Woods," I said, gesturing between them. "Vincent, this is Henry Phillips. We went to college together. He's with..." I paused, not yet knowing his exact department title. "City Hall now."
"Policy and Urban Development," Henry supplied smoothly, extending his hand to Vincent. "Nice to meet you."
Vincent shook it enthusiastically. "Man, you're doing pretty well for yourself. What are you, twenty-five? Already working in a core municipal department?" He shot me an impressed look. "Your friend here's going places."
Henry laughed, modest but clearly pleased. "Just trying to make a difference where I can."
I nodded along, but my attention kept drifting. Over Henry's shoulder, I could see Julian standing near the temporary stage, that woman still at his side.
My chest tightened.
"Nora?" Henry's voice pulled me back. His brow furrowed slightly. "You okay? You look a little tired."
"I'm fine," I said quickly. "Just a long week."
He studied me for a moment, concern flickering in his eyes, but before he could press further, a staff member with a clipboard approached our group.
"Excuse me," she said briskly. "NPR crew? You've been assigned to Vehicle One. You'll be riding with the federal inspection team. The next destination is the Silver River Wetland Restoration Zone."
Vincent's face lit up. "Seriously? That's amazing! We'll get the best access that way."
My stomach dropped. Vehicle One meant spending the drive to the wetland site in the same space as him and that woman.
I glanced toward the parking area where three vans were lined up in a neat row. Julian stood beside the first one. Even from this distance, I could feel the weight of his gaze as it cut through the crowd and landed on me.
Then I saw her again—that woman—heading toward the same vehicle.
Something cold and sharp twisted in my gut.
"Vincent," I heard myself say. "You go ahead."
Vincent blinked. "Wait, what about you?"
"I'll ride in Vehicle Three," I said, keeping my voice steady. "Better to have coverage from different angles, right? You focus on the VIPs, I'll capture other perspectives."
"But—"
"It makes sense strategically," I cut him off, already turning away. "See you at the site."
I could feel Julian's stare boring into my back as I walked toward the third van, but I didn't look back. I couldn't. Not when my emotions were this close to the surface.
Coward, a voice whispered in my head. You're running away because you care.
I shoved the thought down and climbed into Vehicle Three.
---
Inside the van, a handful of local reporters were already seated, along with some city officials I vaguely recognized from previous events.
But there was one person I didn't want to see who unexpectedly appeared. Ruby.
"What are you doing here?" I asked.
"Accompanying my husband, of course."
Beside her sat a middle-aged man in a suit who looked about ten years older than Ruby.
Ruby's eyes landed on me, her lips curving into a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Well, well. I thought for sure you'd be in the first car, Nora."
I met her gaze evenly. "With someone of your experience and seniority riding in this vehicle, Ruby, it wouldn't be appropriate for me to presume otherwise."
Her smile sharpened. "How thoughtful of you." She added in a voice just loud enough for the others to hear, "Though I suppose some people really do think they've caught the attention of powerful men. Cute, really. Like they don't realize they're just convenient tools."
I kept my expression neutral and pulled out my phone, no longer acknowledging her.
The engine started, and we pulled out of the lot.
My phone buzzed in my hand.
Julian: Why didn't you come over?
I stared at the message for two seconds, then locked the screen and shoved the phone into my pocket. Pulling my eye mask from my bag, I settled it over my eyes and leaned back against the headrest.
I don't want to deal with this right now. I don't want to sit there watching him with her, feeling like an idiot.
The voices around me blurred into background noise. I let it all wash over me.
And somehow, despite the churning in my stomach, exhaustion won out. My body gave in, and I fell asleep.
---
When I woke, the vehicle had stopped. Through the window, I could see the sprawling landscape of the Silver River Wetland Restoration Zone stretching out before us.
The river itself cut through the scene like a ribbon of gray-blue glass, reflecting the pale morning sky. On the far bank, the skeletal remains of old industrial infrastructure rose against the horizon.
Closer to shore, temporary supply stations had been set up. Stacks of tools, water plant seedlings in plastic trays, stone-filled gabion cages, rubber gloves, and waterproof boots were organized in neat rows.
I climbed out of the vehicle and immediately spotted Vincent near the main stage, already snapping photos. I made my way over to him.
"Get anything good?" I asked.
"Some solid shots," he said, then lowered his camera and leaned closer. "Hey, you see that woman with the Inspector General?"
My jaw tightened. "What about her?"
"That's Annabel Foster," Vincent said. "Finance Director's daughter. Works as a policy analyst in the Inspector General's office." He gave me a knowing look. "She's been all over him since we got here. Very attentive, if you know what I mean."
I didn't respond.
Vincent shook his head, oblivious to my discomfort. "Can't blame her, I guess. A guy like that—he's basically the whole package. Women probably throw themselves at him constantly."
"Fascinating," I said flatly. "Let's get to work."
I turned away before he could say anything else and busied myself with checking my recorder.