Nadia POV
Across the table, Petra has her own phone out. She is very quiet in a way that means she is reading. Her eyes move. Then she looks up.
"Eighty thousand reads," she says. Her voice comes out smaller than usual. "Nadia. It went up at seven."
I look back at my phone. At Cole's three words. At my byline sitting above them on the screen.
Petra sets her phone down. Her eyes are bright in a way she is trying to control and not quite managing.
"Val didn't tell you," she says.
"No," I say.
She nods slowly, taking that in. "She let it go out and didn't say a word."
"No," I say again. "She didn't."
Neither of us says anything for a moment.
We sit with it for a while — coffee going cold, the diner humming around us like always. Petra doesn't push. I don't explain. The piece is out
