Aria's pov
For a month I had been hearing phantom baby cries.
After seeing a psychologist who called my symptoms nothing but stress-induced delusions, I had tried to follow their advice.
"Get out, find work, stay busy," they'd said, as if routine could silence ghosts.
I didn't believe them, but they were right about one thing: staying locked in my apartment was eating me alive.
Getting a job as a paparazzi photographer happened by accident.
I overheard two women talking in a diner about an opening at a local newspaper.
The pay was fair, but the hours were terrible with long nights, early mornings, and almost no weekends.
I didn't have experience, but I've always been interested in that kind of work. Desperation makes people try things they normally wouldn't, so I
