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Difficult Subjects

Sophia

I dreaded the “check-in” phone call that Mr. Fraser scheduled on Monday afternoon. I had nothing to give him, but I couldn’t lie. If I told him I had the story, he’d want to see at least a rough draft before sending me home right away. I bet the hotel wasn’t cheap and keeping me here when I was “finished” wouldn’t help the company’s bottom line.

I had to tell him the truth, no matter how hard it would be.

My eyes darted between the phone and the small digital clock on the side of the bed. I wished it would just ring. I didn’t think I had enough fingernails to last me the next few minutes. I placed my hands on my lap, pressing them against my thighs. Bleeding from the fingers wasn’t going to help me write a story.

I had spent the majority of the day on Sunday, and earlier that day, researching more about Luke Walters. If he wasn’t going to allow me to interview him, the least I could do was start my article with some background. I hated using other sources when the center of my
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