“You can’t make this shit up.” Noah scratched the side of his head as he shifted his gaze toward the family room. He glanced at his watch. “Shit. We missed the start of the morning show.” He hopped off the stool.
“We can watch it?—”
“No. Hugh is reporting about me.” Noah padded into the family room, grabbed the remote, and rewound the segment to the beginning.
“Do you really want to watch that?” Ziggy asked as she slid off the stool and followed him.
He glanced over his shoulder. “I need to know what people are saying.”
“Even if it’s bad?”
“Especially if it’s bad,” he said.
The segment reset.
“… I started working with Noah Chase before his show Unfiltered aired. I've learned a lot from him over the years. One of which is that everyone has a story. A history. A past. No one is immune to that. Noah might have been born with the name Angel Salazar. And for fourteen years, Angel lived his life like most of us do as kids,” Hugh said.
A picture of Noah as a kid in hockey gear flashed on the screen.
Ziggy’s chest tightened at the sight of it. She’d seen it before, five years ago, before she’d known it was Noah. And again, shortly after, kicking herself, she hadn’t seen the resemblance. It was subtle, but it was there.
Noah stood in the middle of the room, the remote pressed against his chest, his hand still.
“…He had a mom and a dad. He went to school. He played sports. And according to one of his hockey coaches, he was pretty good. But what happened to Angel doesn't happen to most of the rest of us.”
The screen cut back to Hugh.
“…Angel's world stopped in an instant the day he learned his father raped and killed twelve women. The life Angel thought he knew, was over. We can sit here and talk about how those women aren't here anymore, and Angel is. But Angel didn't do anything wrong. He's as much of a victim as those women are. The same goes for his mom, who ended her life and left Angel without any parents at all,” Hugh said.
Noah dropped his hands to his side and stared blankly at the screen.
“…I’d researched all of this for what I thought would be a three-part interview with Matias Salazar, who promised me—though he lied—that he would tell me things about his son that no one knew. I spent countless hours digging into Angel and following leads that went nowhere, but I did come to oneconclusion before I watched Noah's show last night. And that was that Angel was a person who’d disappeared because he wanted a chance at a life that wasn't overshadowed by being the son of a serial killer. He wanted the life that had been stolen from him at fourteen. I can understand that. I can relate to it. I have my own story, which I won't bore you with now. But before any of us pass judgment on Noah Chase, I want you to consider what it might have been like for him if he hadn’t shed the weight of being Matias Salazar's son.”
Ziggy stepped closer and rested her hand on Noah’s shoulder.
He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her tight.
“I’ve had my differences with Noah,” Hugh said. “And I owe him an apology. I also want to say here, on air, that I have the utmost respect for him, his show, his team, especially his producer, and I think we all need to give him a little grace. This is Hugh Enders reporting live from…”
Noah clicked off the television. “I didn't expect him, of all people, to say that.”
Ziggy’s phone buzzed on the kitchen counter.
Noah’s phone went off, too. He reached for it and glanced at the screen. “It's Andrew. He says that every news outlet is covering the story.”
“Not surprised.” Ziggy picked up her phone, scanning before looking up, a small smile breaking through. “And it's all positive.”
“Most of it. A few think I'm a dick, but that's nothing new.” Noah chuckled.
Ziggy tossed her phone back onto the counter, slipping her arms around him. “I told you no one cares what name you used to have. They only care what kind of man you are. And I love you so very much.”
“I love you, too.”
Five years ago, Ziggy hadn’t known this moment would come. She’d wanted it. She’d dreamed about it. But she never stopped living her life.
And she never gave up on the man she loved.
EPILOGUE