8
Emma
“So, how’s our mystery redhead?” Gramps says, walking into the kitchen, and I nearly spit out the coffee I was swishing around in my mouth. At the last second, I swallow it instead—and immediately break into a coughing fit because the hot liquid went down the wrong pipe.
“Gramps!” I choke out when I can speak. “Since when do you read The New York Herald?”
I was sure, dead certain, that my grandparents wouldn’t see that piece of insightful journalism. Because why would they? The Herald is basically a local gossip rag full of clickbait stories that make the whole “getting hitched at Disney World” bit seem like a deeply researched fact.
“Since I learned that the man my favorite granddaughter is dating makes headlines, and I set up Google alerts for his name,” Gramps says, as unfla
