Page 8 of Exposé

I rolled my eyes.

My possessions amounted to little more than a collection of bills, an array of streaming services, and a towering stack of unread books. Yet, within the confines of this building, none of that mattered.

I made a difference in people’s lives and it was okay I didn't have much of one.

"Theremaybe a new story I'm working on." I shrugged a shoulder and took another sip of my hot coffee.

She leaned closer, her long, wavy black hair swishing forward. "Well." She rolled her wrist, urging me on. "Don't leave me in suspense."

"Look." I signed into my computer and pulled up the email. "I got this last night."

She squinted her eyes as she skimmed the words, then widened and glanced at me. "Did you go?"

"Absolutely." I nodded. "The police raided a house and tore it to shreds." A dry chuckle escaped me. "And then, I talked to my contact that was there, and he says there's been an uptick in busts with this new drug. Coincidence… I think not."

"That sounds like the makings of something good." Aria perked up and rolled her chair to my desk. "Tell me more."

My fingers flew over my keyboard, searching forums and the dark web for anything mentioning the drug while taking notes on my legal pad and filling her in on my newborn story. "So, we're looking at a hallucinogen."

Aria tossed her hair over her shoulder. "Like LSD?"

"Stronger? I think..." I pointed to a post with a cheetah as the profile picture. "This person says the hallucinations are realistic and stimulateallof the senses." I pointed to another and jotted down the information. "This one says it lasted for two hours and was the best trip he'd ever had aside from the panic attacks afterward."

This isn't a starter drug, that's for sure.

Aria let loose a laugh, then stifled it as she looked around. "Sorry. This guy thought he was a glass of orange juice and was taken to the emergency room by ambulance."

"Imagine trying to drink yourself to curethathangover." My shoulders shook as I chuckled. "Where are they getting it?"

"Ask one of the users."

I leaned back in my seat. "The jails might have a few. I could ask around there—see if they could give me a first-hand account."

"Great." She wheeled her chair back from the desk, her hand falling into her lap. "So, what's your angle?"

"I'm not entirely sure yet." I shrugged with a slight wince. "I guess the first thing is, where did this drug come from? And how did it get here?" I underlined the drug's name in my notebook.

"Maybe your story isn't necessarily about the drug, but who's tipping off the police and why?"

"But that's easy." I shrugged again. "It's gotta be a vigilante or someone who lives nearby."

Aria cocked her head. "I think if your tipper wanted you to know about a new drug, they would have said that." She crossed her legs and sighed. "No, I think you're missing the bigger picture here." She rocked her seat back and forth. "Think of it this way: a drug is a trend—a shiny toy that people try out for novelty. They'll forget about it in a month, right?" She clicked as she chewed on her cheek. "How many raids did you say had been this week?" Aria flicked her hair over her shoulder, her brows scrunching.

My gaze dropped to my notes. "Three."

Is the tip about the raids?

Drugs don't make headline news unless it's causing swaths of deaths.

Did someone die?

Maybe she's right.

"Three drug raids in lil' ol' Riverfield?" She pushed her chair out of my cubicle.

"And twenty arrests…"

I snagged my coffee off the desk and took a sip as she spun a full circle as though it'd help her process her thoughts. "Well, ifyou want to work on this story, no matter which direction you go, you know what you have to do."

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