Page 134 of How to Prevent a Fumble

Examining our work, I nod to myself.

“Thanks man,” I tell him, offering my hand for a high-five.

His hand collides with mine, and we both watch as Elara’s brows furrow. She walks toward the office, placing her ear against the door.

“Why’s mom crying?” she asks softly, turning toward us with concern.

I look at Owen, who’s brown eyes are trained on mine.

I think I know the reason.

“Can you take her for a bit?” I ask him. His eyes narrow. “This has nothing to do with me, I promise. But it’s not my thing to tell you.”

His face softens just a touch, but I can tell he doesn’t quite believe me.

“I promise,” I repeat.

He nods.

“Elara, let’s go work on that puzzle, okay? We have to finish it soon or it’s going to get ruined.”

Her jaw immediately drops, as if she’s shocked that a puzzle would be taken apart if left untouched for weeks.

Within a couple of minutes, they’re gone.

With a deep breath, I make my way to the door slowly, hearing Briar’s muffled cries from the other side.

I don’t bother knocking.

Briar is curled up in her office chair, her eyes red. My guess is she’s been in here since the second she got home.

Brows furrowing, I close in on her, kneeling in front of her and taking her cold hands in mine.

She won’t meet my eyes.

“Hey,” I say, ducking my head to try to catch her gaze. “What’s going on, Sunny?”

She shakes her head, looking away.

My heart sinks. “Please tell me,” I whisper.

She sniffles, pulling her gray cardigan closer into her. “I don’t suppose you know anything about an article that’s hitting the news tomorrow, do you?”

My heart starts thudding in my chest faster and faster as I try my hardest to think of what she could possibly mean. But I can’t think of a single thing.

I shake my head. “I don’t know of anything, Briar.”

Her eyes snap to mine, anger raging inside of them. “I don’t know if I can believe that,” she hisses.

My head tilts to the side as panic rises inside of me. “Please tell me what’s going on.”

She scoffs. “Apparently Tony knows someone who works at one of the big newspapers. Says that there’s an article coming out tomorrow about how we’re engaged.”

I feel like someone threw ice on me.

I pull out my phone, realizing I haven’t checked it properly in days. I’ve had some calls, but a lot of them were from numbers I hadn’t recognized, and I just sort of assumed someone had leaked my number again, and I hadn’t gotten around to getting a new one.

Scrolling through my texts, I see it.

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