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I gasped. “Grace, I would murder you.”

Grace nodded. “Well, that documentary certainly took a twist. Make that my freshman year.”

I laughed, reveling in the wash of warmth that came with being back here, among the people I loved. “You can thank me later.”

I spent the weekend decorating the apartment with little touches, finding just the right spot for this painting or that lamp, relishing the details that were already making the place feel like mine, wearing myself out with work. Then, it arrived.

Monday.

* * *

I’d been right. I hadn’t slept. I had my ironed suit all laid out and timed my short drive in advance. I was told there was a nine a.m. story meeting, so I made sure to arrive at KTMW by eight. I waited in the lobby as my heart thudded and palms sweated until an assistant from the assignment desk, Mila, showed up moments later to walk me in. I hadn’t been given my electronic badge just yet.

“Welcome to KTMW.” She beamed. “What station are you coming from?”

I met her friendly gaze. Dark hair like mine. Similar age. Shorter. “I was at WBBA before this.”

“Oh yeah, up the highway a few hours.”

“That’s the one.”

“Very cool. You’ll be over here.”

She had an interesting look on her face as she led me to a desk toward the back of the newsroom, probably trying to piece together how I’d gone from a small-time station to this one without anything in between. Same, Mila. Same.

The newsroom was already hopping with people moving around, asking each other questions across the open space. The morning broadcast had been on air since six and would carry through until nine. A good portion of staff who’d been there since the wee hours would hang on for a bit and then shuffle home as the evening folks arrived to prep their day and the newscasts ahead.

I eyed the spot next to me. “Whoever sits there is incredibly neat,” I said to Mila with a laugh. The desk was full of supplies, all sectioned off and in their own spots around the perimeter with the help of actual dividers, leaving the main portion of the desk completely empty. I’dnever been that put together in my entire life. Someone had taken the time.

Mila laughed. “That’s Carrie for you. I have to get back to the phones, but is there anything you need?”

I looked at the boxes of office supplies and the laptop that had been left on my desk for me. “Nope. I’ll just get myself set up and then head to the story meeting soon.”

Mila nodded, walking backward, the incessant ringing of the phones acting as her beacon. “Great. Conference room right over there. Meeting’s at nine. There’ll be coffee and pastries. All the good stuff.”

“Awesome.” Already an upgrade from the bring-your-own policy at my old station. I got to slicing open the packages of Post-its, staples, pens, and more when my overly meticulous neighbor arrived in my peripheral.

“Hi, I’m Sky—” The words died on my lips, and I squeezed the pad of blue Post-its way too hard, bending them into a wonky shape. It wasn’t Carrie, my obscure desk neighbor, who’d arrived. It was Caroline McNamara who—I sighed internally—clearly went by Carrie. That meant I now sat next to Caroline McNamara on a daily basis. My brain wasn’t quite sure what to do with that information. I was equal parts thrilled and terrified. Maybe we’d be friends. I’d bring an extra coffee for her. She’d tell me the latest anecdote from her drive to work. We’d laugh over little things.

“Sky?” She seemed puzzled. “You’re a new reporter?” She said it as if we happened a lot, which jibed with the revolving door Tam had alluded to.

“Skyler, actually, and yes. First day. But you can call me Sky. If you want.”

“Do most people?”

“Well…no.”

“Skyler then. Welcome,” she said, her attention already on her screen. Of course it was. It was Monday morning, and there was surely a lot to catch up on. I stayed out of her way, stealing glances here and there until it was time for the morning story meeting. I arrived in the conference room with my laptop open, my coffee doctored, and my excitement level dialed to high. The room filled up over the next ten minutes, and I went out of my way to introduce myself to everyone I could. They seemed busy, but friendly enough. There were three other reporters that I recognized in attendance, and probably others I needed to learn about. A handful of producers filed in already in quietconversation with one another, and just before we got going, Caroline and Rory, the evening anchors, joined us, taking the seats at the center of the table. While they wouldn’t go out on stories themselves, they likely wanted to be in the loop about what kinds of stories were in the works. I also knew from my time as a viewer that Caroline occasionally took on special feature stories that they’d advertise ahead of time. Interviews with high-profile people. Celebrities. An intimate look at pertinent subject matter. All good stuff.

“All right. Let’s go ahead and get started. It’s looking to be a busy day ahead,” Kristin said, offering me a smile before kicking things off. “First of all, good morning, everyone, and a warm welcome to our newest reporter joining our team today, Skyler Ruiz.” The room collectively nodded in my direction and smiled.

“Thank you. Happy to be on board.” I smiled, but the moment quickly passed, and we moved on to the objective, mapping out the day’s stories.

Kristin raised her eyebrows in expectation. “What do we have today? Carlos, let’s start with you.”

Carlos Benavides. I’d seen him on air. He was good, but a bit too presentational in his style, in my opinion. He came with a lot of hair, though, styled into a very impressive swirl. He sat forward. “Those giant birds are invading the area around Mission Bay again. Egrets. They smell awful, and the residents are over it.”

“If you can get me good B-roll of the birds in large groups, then it’s a maybe,” Kristin said with a shrug. She didn’t seem all that jazzed. As a general rule, the station would have way more stories in the works than would ever make it to air that day. Some stories wouldn’t pan out. Others would be bumped when something last-minute broke. In sculpting a broadcast, especially one that was changing by the minute, more was more. It was important, as a reporter, that my story made it to air each day, and I would work tirelessly to make that happen.

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