Harper was quiet for a long moment. “I get to finish what I started. I get to do the work that matters, even if I can’t take credit for it.”
It was reckless. Possibly stupid. But Harper had never known how to walk away from a story once it had its hooks in her. And this one had gone straight to the bone.
“That’s not enough,” Craig said, studying her face. “There’s something else.”
Harper hesitated. She could feel the weight of Sebastian’s messages on her phone, the complexity of her tangled history with him. “I have help. Someone on the inside.”
Craig’s expression hardened. “Who?”
“Sebastian Hawthorne.”
There it was. The bombshell. The part she’d rehearsed but still hated saying out loud. She braced for impact.
“Absolutely not.” Craig’s voice was flat and final. “You want me to stake the paper’s reputation on the word of Charles Hawthorne’s son? The same son you—”
“Yes,” Harper interrupted. “The same son I have bad blood with. But Craig, he knows how his father operates. The shell companies, the money laundering, the compartmentalization. Without him, the documents I’ve got don’t make sense.”
“You trust him?”
“No,” Harper said honestly. “I don’t trust him. But I trust his hatred of his father. And I trust what’s at stake.”
Craig was quiet for a long time, the weight of the decision heavy in the room. When he finally spoke, his voice was careful and measured.
“If we did this, and I’m not saying we are, but if we did, it would have to be airtight. No phone calls. No emails. No meetings that can’t be explained away.”
Harper’s heart jumped. “I’m Emilia’s maid of honor. It’s the perfect reason to be seen with Sebastian, he’s the best man.”
“And if this blows up? If we get caught? The board won’t just fire us, Harper. They’ll destroy our careers. Make sure we never work in journalism again.”
Harper met his eyes. “Then we don’t get caught.”
Craig stared at her for another long moment, then slowly shook his head. “You’re asking me to bet everything on a ghost story and a man with every reason to betray you.”
“I’m asking you to trust me,” Harper said quietly. “The way you did when you gave me the Hawthorne assignment in the first place.”
Another silence stretched between them. Finally, Craig rubbed his temples and sighed deeply.
“God help me,” he muttered. “But if anyone asks, you were reassigned because of the conflict of interest. That’s all anyone knows. Even Geoffries doesn’t know the full scope until we’re sure this can work.”
Harper felt a rush of relief so intense it made her dizzy. “Thank you, Craig. I won’t let you down.”
“You better not,” he said grimly. “Because if this goes wrong, it’s not just your career on the line. It’s mine too. And everyone else on this team who’s counting on us to keep the lights on.”
Harper stood, her legs still unsteady. “I should go talk to my source. Get her comfortable with working through Geoffries.”
Craig nodded. “Actually, there’s one more thing we need to discuss.” He paused, looking uncomfortable. “The byline.”
Harper felt her stomach drop, though she’d known this was coming. “I assume it will be Geoffries.”
“No,” Craig said quietly. “This kind of story gets published anonymously. Safer that way. For everyone.”
Harper nodded slowly. It was the smart move. And while becoming a ghost reporter had been her idea, it finally clicked that she was giving up the last shred of ownership over the story she’d sacrificed everything to pursue. She’d told herself it didn’t matter who got the credit. That exposing the truth was the reward. But letting go of her name, her byline, it felt like erasing herself from history. Like bleeding out in invisible ink.
“Right,” she said, surprised by how steady her voice sounded. “Anonymous.”
As she reached the door, Craig called out, “Harper?”
She turned back.