She checked the weather again before she left. The sky was flat gray. The heavy part of the storm had passed, leaving plowed piles and slick patches and tired-looking snow.
She could work with that.
The drive to the station was slow. She didn’t trust the side streets yet, so she took the main roads even though they were crawling. Every time she stopped at a light, her thoughts tried to slide back toward Tilly.
The heater in her car sounded like the truck’s heater.
The salt smeared on the windshield looked like the snow streaking past.
The steering wheel under her hands reminded her of grabbing Tilly’s coat.
She clenched her fingers tighter.
“It was the storm,” she whispered. “It was adrenaline. It doesn’t mean anything.”
But it had. She knew it had.
Not when she’d been pressed against them.
Not when they kissed her back.
Not when they looked at her afterward and didn’t apologize.
She pulled into the station lot with her jaw set.
The building looked the same as always, squat and gray, stubborn against the snowbanks. The satellite trucks were lined up, dishes capped with frost. The shoveled path had already grown messy with new footprints.
Savannah killed the engine and sat there for a second, hands tight on the wheel.
It would be fine. She’d walk in, nod at people, sit at her desk, and work. She wouldn’t look for Tilly.
She pulled in a breath, let it go, and made herself move.
Inside, the newsroom was in its half-awake state. Not empty, not loud. Keyboards, early calls, chairs scraping, producers settling in. The overhead lights were on, but the studio behind the glass was still dim.
Harper sat near the assignment desk, coffee in hand. She spotted Savannah immediately.
“Morning,” Harper called.
Savannah stopped because walking past without answering would only make things worse. “Morning.”
Harper squinted at her. “Why do you sound like you swallowed a cactus?”
“I don’t.”
“You absolutely do.”
“I’m tired.”
“You look… weirdly put together for the day after a storm. Did you sleep in that blazer?”
“I got up on time,” Savannah said. “You should try it.”
Harper’s lips twitched. “Ouch. Someone’s spicy.”
Savannah adjusted her bag. “I’ve got work to do.”
“You always have work to do,” Harper said lightly. Then softer, “You okay?”
