Chapter 111

With Hugo’s words and obvious dislike of Miles, I wonder not for the first time what happened between the two of them to brew this mistrust. Unfortunately, this isn’t the moment to ask. Instead, I’m way too busy freaking out about this photo being leaked and my secret relationship with Miles being exposed.

“Is there anything we can do?” I ask. “If this gets out…”

I let my words trail off, unable to give voice to the worst of my fears. To say them aloud might make them more real.

Hugo hides his anger behind his cool mask so swiftly and efficiently, it’s almost as if the former never existed at all.

“The photo is blurry at best,” Hugo says, speaking clinically now, like a doctor might to his patient. “Anyone who knows you is likely to recognize you. Only those who know enough will be able to discern this is Miles.”

“Other news organizations have likely received a similar envelope,” Kimberly says.

“Yes,” Hugo says. He lowers the photo and tucks it back within the confines of the envelope. “But there are ways of making things like these disappear.”

That surprises me. After a moment of shock, I realize it shouldn’t. Hugo is part of the Whisperers, if not as a direct member than as an ambassador of sorts. They control the entire underbelly of politics in this city. It shouldn’t be surprising that their reach could include the kill command of articles they dislike.

Still, it’s deeply unnerving. If they can make a story like this disappear, what else have they been responsible for hiding?

The journalist in my heart itches for more investigating. The rest of me tells that part of me to shut up before it lands me in even more trouble.

The Whisperers are a potentially corrupt mystery that needs uncovered. But not right now. Not when they hold my entire future in their hands.

“Do you think they would do that?” I ask. “For me?”

“Not for you,” Hugo says. He sighs. “But for Miles Hamilton. Maybe.” With disgust he adds, “Likely in return for a favor.”

“I want to be the one to owe the favor,” I say. “Please don’t include Miles in this.”

Hugo shakes his head. “They’re unlikely to go for that. I’ll try, Esther. But there’s no guarantee that will work. He’s a much bigger fish with many more connections.”

“I have connections, too,” I say, weakly.

Hugo looks away. “I’ll see what I can do.”

That he can’t meet my eyes likely means he doesn’t expect much. Even so, I appreciate him for agreeing to try.

“I’ll need some time to gather my associates,” Hugo says. “You’ll know if I’m successful if you don’t hear anything.”

“Thank you, Hugo,” I say.

“Sir,” Kimberly says. She glances at me as we turn toward the door to leave.

Kimberly overheard Hugo speak about his connections as clearly as I did. She said she’s been in the business for a long time. Does that mean that she knows about the Whisperers? Does she have her own reasons to keep quiet about their existence?

We step outside the door and close it behind us.

“Kimberly…” I prepare to ask.

“Don’t,” she says, cutting me off. “Some questions should go unasked.”

It sounds like a warning, so I close my mouth and let the question die within me. The warning only stokes my curiosity, wondering now about Kimberly’s involvement. Yet with the favor both she and Hugo are extending to me, I hold that curiosity back and bury it down inside of me.

Kimberly walks off ahead of me. I move slower, back to my desk.

When I sit, I slump into my chair, suddenly exhausted. The day just started and I’m already counting down the moments until I can leave.

As much as Miles wants to handle the Amber crisis, he cannot completely abandon his other responsibilities. His campaign manager, Trent, might have a heart attack if he even suggests a delay.

Trent is an older man, well regarded in the political community. He’s helped candidates become presidents before. He has the ability to back up his hubris, and Miles usually enjoys his candor. The man runs the campaign like a military ship, however. He’s already mad at Miles for his sneaking out last night.

“I know that look,” Trent grumbles, catching Miles check his phone for the third time in the past five minutes. “If you are thinking of sneaking away again, I’m going to chain you to the chair.”

Miles flashes him a cocksure grin. It doesn’t match the storm of feelings within him, but he knows it’s what Trent expects. “I know you enjoy the challenge, Trent.”

“What I’ll enjoy is for you to do as you’re told for once in your life,” Trent says. “If you want to be president…” And just like that, he’s off on another tangent.

Miles does as he’s told this time, hoping to appease Trent, whose help he does appreciate. It’s a simple enough photo op today. Miles is in the audience to watch a middle school production of a classic play. The kids aren’t old enough to vote, but their parents sure are.

The parents are the ones sitting around Miles in the audience. They are the ones watching him like a hawk to make sure he appreciates every moment. Miles makes sure he pays attention the entire time, laughing when appropriate.

It’s a ruse. Maybe another day, he could properly appreciate the hard work of the kids, but right now, his mind is entirely distracted by Amber’s threats.

She didn’t tell him exactly what she had done, but he knew she had done something. He doesn’t want to worry Esther by asking her if her day is going okay, but he wishes she would check in on her own.

His worry drives him to distraction, but he’s done things like this for long enough that he knows exactly how to behave in a crowd even when he’s not paying attention.

Afterwards, he gives a standing ovation, then starts shaking the parents of the children.

He’s more annoyed and surprised that there are several reporters waiting for him outside. They snap his picture as he exits the auditorium.

This is what you want, Miles reminds himself. Photo ops like this are important.

He pulls on his biggest smile and starts waving to the crowd, including the reporters.

Scanning the group, he searches for Esther first. She’s not there, and that annoys him. If she was here, he could handle this anxiety in a timely fashion.

Instead, he’s left to continually wonder. He really dislikes uncertainty.

He recognizes many of the reporters in the crowd. Some he respects, most he feels neutral about. One, however, catches his eye.

Jessica. Despite working for an opposing news outlet to Amber, Jessica and Amber were still very close friends.

Miles never liked her. She’s the type of person who would complain about the weather on a sunny day. For Amber’s sake, and for the sake of appeasing the news networks, Miles always treated her with respect, even when he thought she was being purposefully difficult.

Now, however, he’s just suspicious.

Jessica likely knows what happened with Amber. If she does, she’s likely on Amber’s side.

Jessica opens her mouth, and Miles braces himself.

“Representative Hamilton!” Jessica shouts about the rest. “Is it true you are in a secret relationship with Harbinger News Company reporter Esther Owens?”