Page 79 of A Thirst for Franc

A car door echoed through the air. “Excuse me,” an unfamiliar female voice said. “Are you Quinn? Quinn Fraser?”

Oh god.

My arms and legs were nothing more than frozen limbs, unable to break through the hold of panic racing through me.

I had no idea who this person was, but she called me by my real name. She knew. And if she knew my real name, she knew everything.

The woman—a brunette with long hair that sat just beneath her shoulders—moved toward us. Dark wash jeans that looked designer covered her legs and paired with a simple white t-shirt. “I’m a reporter with OH12 a local news station in Ohio and wanted to talk to you about the allegations.”

The world around me swirled out of control. My head spun, the ground shifted. My heart didn’t know if it wanted to stop or race, so it did a mix of both, alternating and making it impossible to breathe.

“How did you find me?” I managed through the haze of pain.

“It wasn’t easy, that’s for sure. Didn’t think you’d be using a different name. Smart.”

Franc’s arm snaked around my waist, and he held me up. I didn’t want to need him as much as I did, especially after he found out my secret and inevitably walked away. Why he wasn’t already pushing me away was beyond me.

I turned in his arms, needing him to hear it from my own mouth before this reporter spit out mistruths and gossip.

His smoky blue eyes met mine, and I refused to look away. He deserved the truth. “My name isn’t Quinn St. Clair. St Clair is my stepdad’s last name. My legal name is Quinn—”

“Fraser. I know.”

What? I thought I was fooling everyone, but the only one I was fooling was myself.

“At the hospital, I found out.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry about.” His hold on me tightened, and he looked over at the reporter.

“Quinn Fraser’s name was cleared. The student who accused her admitted it was all a lie, so why are you here?”

He knew.

My heart slammed into my chest, battering my ribs with a relentless thump. He knew I was accused of sleeping with a student. That I changed my name and got the hell out of dodge.

I stared at this man who held me, frozen in shock, his arms were still around me as he spoke the words I’d been so scared to tell him.

“I know,” the reporter said. “And that’s not the story I want to tell.”

My eyes caught Franc’s, the same confusion swirling in his eyes that spiraled through me.

“Quinn Fraser was an amazing teacher who was falsely accused of statutory rape. The school, her colleagues, and the community marked her guilty before she had a chance to defend herself. They tainted her name, which makes sense why you changed it, and they ran a great teacher out of the district.”

The reporter stepped closer and held out her hand. “Ms. Fraser, I’m Kaci Cleary.”

The last name was familiar, and my brain started to connect the dots.

“Mark Cleary is my brother.”

“I remember Mark. I had him my first year of teaching.”

“You believed in him, worked with him and had him fall in love with science. Next year, he’ll be graduating with a bachelor’s degree in biology. He wants to be a veterinarian.” A proud smile spread across her face. “When the news spread about you sleeping with one of your students, my whole family knew it was bullshit. But the news. I’m sorry for what you had to go through.”

“I… I don’t know what to say.”

“Say yes. Let me tell your story. Therealstory.”

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