The world knew he was Angel Salazar. A mystery solved. But that wasn’t going to be what this show was remembered for.
The cameraman lifted three fingers. Two. One.
“Welcome back to Unfiltered. I’m Noah Chase, and this is my guest, Matias Salazar.”
“Shouldn’t you now be saying, Angel Salazar?”
“No,” Noah said with confidence.
“You can’t change who you are, son.”
Noah couldn’t believe his father had walked right into that, and that alone was unsettling. Matias didn’t walk into traps, heset them. Didn’t matter that Noah had caught him off guard once. Or that he’d beaten his dad to the first reveal.
His father could still easily sucker punch Noah, and Noah needed to prepare himself for anything.
“I’m glad you brought that up. Because change is one of the things I wanted to ask you about.” While it was true that Noah never rehearsed the show or shared his questions with his guests, he did prep his staff, but sometimes no amount of planning could stop things from backfiring.
He hoped this one didn't.
“You’ve been in this prison for twenty-five years. I’ve seen you four times. This is the fifth.” He let that sit with his viewers for a second. Not because he was looking for a reaction from them, but because he wanted them to understand how little his father knew the adult version of him. “And I’ve spoken to you, what, once on the phone?”
“Are you trying to rub that in?”
Noah ignored the attempt at the dig. “But I think you’ve communicated with me more than that,” Noah said. “Though you’ve tried to hide it even from me.”
Matias’s brow creased, just slightly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Interesting,” he said, “because on my birthday, actually, I received a card and a gift. And while you didn’t sign them, I believe they are from you.”
Matias shook his head before Noah finished the sentence. “You’re mistaken.”
And on cue, the door opened.
Noah turned as Ziggy stepped into the room with Claire close behind her. Claire looked like she swallowed a lemon. Her shoulders were tight, her movements careful in a way that suggested she was thinking about where every step landed. In her hands, she carried the pieces Noah had been waiting for—thecard, the note, the puck—held together like evidence that was burning a hole in her hands.
She crossed the space quickly, keeping her head down, turned away from the camera as she approached Noah.
Noah took the gifts and watched as her eye flicked toward Matias. When his gaze caught hers, she froze for a second before becoming flustered, then turning and rushing off toward the wall where Ziggy stood.
“Do you two know each other?” Noah asked.
A slight audible gasp from Claire.
Noah hoped it was picked up.
“No. Why would we?” Matias asked, but all he needed to say was no. He didn’t need to qualify anything, and that told Noah so much.
“Huh.” Noah picked up the card, turning it slightly between his fingers before pushing it toward Matias. “I got this on my birthday at the station.” When Matias didn’t take it, Noah put it on the small table between them. “Along with this puck and note, which just reads ‘Happy Birthday. 25 years is a long time.’ Kind of a dead giveaway, don’t you think? Plus, no one in my current life knows I ever played hockey.” He tapped it with his finger after he set it next to the card. “But it’s this card that threw me. I’d like you to read it.” Noah lifted it and held it up.
“I find this to be a childish game.”
“But you like games,” Noah said.
“Fine.” Matias glared and took the card. “You think you’re untouchable. The golden boy. The truth-seeker. The reporter everyone is equally afraid of and desperate to impress. But who holds you accountable? I know what you did. You should think about who you hurt when you make decisions without even a conversation.”
“What is it you think I did?” he asked. “Because I’ve been trying to figure that out, and I’m coming up short.”
His father slapped the card down on the table. He didn’t say a word. Just stared at Noah like he wanted to throttle him.