Carly
“Have you seen how many people are out there?” my mom asked, coming into the office-turned-bedroom that I stayed in. “It’s like in the movies.”
I frowned and got up, following my mom to the front door. She opened it, and I looked out.
There were swarms of them outside. Vans were parked on the curb, men with cameras walked around like the equipment was a part of them, and women and men with mics and boom mics stood in small groups, talking.
“What’s happened?” I asked. “It looks serious.”
“I don’t know,” my mom said. “I didn’t hear anything.”
I thought about Brad calling it off last night. He’d said the press had found out he was in town. Could this be what he’d been talking about? I had thought that he would be harassed by a reporter or two when he’d said it, but this was obscen
