“So,” she said, crossing her arms, “what do you want?”
Savannah shot me a ‘your circus’ look. I reached into my bag and pulled out the old draft of the Sterling article.
Mary didn’t touch it, but her jaw clenched even tighter. “Wow,” she said softly. “What the heck are you digging up, Hads?”
“Hadley,” I corrected coldly. “You recognize it?” I asked, already feeling triumphant.
She snorted. “Of course I do. I wrote half of it.”
Savannah’s eyebrows shot up. “You?”
“Yeah.” Mary stepped back, eyes flicking between us. “I was the editor and acting sports editor. Well... briefly. Until I wasn’t.”
My stomach pinched. “Because of this?”
“Because of this,” she confirmed. “That was the year I learned how journalism works in college life.” Her voice sharpened. “It doesn’t.”
I swallowed. “Mary... I need to know what happened. The redactions. The sudden shutdown. The—”
“No.”
I was prepared for this. “I’ll never mention you told me.”
“I don’t care.”
We held each other’s stare. I didn’t break eye contact. “You owe me.”
Her huff of disbelief was loud. “That’s a low blow, Hads.”
“At last, we agree,” I murmured. I watched her face flush, and she looked away.
“Mason Sterling?” she guessed.
I nodded.
Mary sighed like she’d been holding that name close for a few years.
“Look, I don’t know much,” she said, lowering her voice. “The official story was an academic review. Behavior monitoring. Some vague ‘internal decision’ that meant nothing.”
“I know the public version,” I said. “I want the real one.”
Again, she hesitated. “Why? This is old news.”
“Not to me.” I held her stare. “I found more. I think he ties it together.” I looked over at her corkboard. “I uncovered some things... They took my blog.” I glanced back at her, and she was still watching me. “Some friends found things, and Mason was mentioned. I found Sterling’s name. There’s a cover-up, Mary, I know it. He’s the one common denominator. I need to know why.”
“And you thought I would be the one to uncover the cover-up?” she asked skeptically. Her gaze swept us both. “You must be really stuck if you came to me.”
I could see Savannah out of the corner of my eye, and even though I didn’t know her well, I now knew her well enough to know she was desperate to askwhy.
“I’ve got time.”
Mary studied me for a moment. Then, to my surprise, she softened. “You’re still the same, you know,” she said quietly. “Always chasing the story no one wants you to have.”
I opened my mouth — to apologize, to defend myself, to move on from the two years of unresolved resentment between us — but she waved me off.
“Forget it, just listen.”
I shut up.