Page 109 of The Donor’s Dilemma

“Yeah, I know. Nothing happened, though, we just… spent time together.” Tears pricked her eyes again. How many hours had she spent with him? How many days just talking, being in each other’s presence? It was all over.

“I don’t understand,” Cora said, reaching over for Verity’s hand.

“Yesterday… we… he kissed me,” she choked. “We… did stuff… in his office, and today…” Unable to get the words out, Verity pulled the letter from her pocket and showed Cora.

“What the actual fuck?” Cora shouted, startling a customer talking to Kim by the counter. Verity shushed her but Cora was near shaking with rage. “He reported you? That fucking scumbag!”

“Cora, please.” She reached for the letter, but Cora snatched it back. “I’ll fucking kill him!”

“No, you won’t,” Verity said, voice flat.

“Well, I’ll… I’ll… I’ll shit through his fucking letter box then!”

Despite herself, Verity couldn’t help but snigger. “He doesn’t have a letter box exactly. He lives in an apartment, there’s like a wall of post boxes.”

“Even better,” Cora declared. “We’ll collect a whole load of dog shit and…”

“Cora?” Kim called, stopping her mid-evil plan. “Sorry, you got a minute.”

“Hold that thought,” Cora said, getting up to go see what Kim wanted.

Trust Cora to completely skirt over the fact that he was a vampire and go straight to petty revenge. It might not be the best idea but the thought of it did bring a smile to her face.

Grabbing the discarded letter, Verity folded it back into her pocket before anyone could see and grabbed a newspaper from the end of the table. A customer must have left it behind. It was upside down, but one word jumped out stealing Verity’s attention. Curfew.

She snatched the paper up, reading the front page. “Curfews being considered.” What the fuck? The article explained that the day-commissioner was discussing daylight curfews for humans due to the steep rise in crime. Vandalism, robberies, missing people. Was this what those police officers were talking to Theo about? Why wouldn’t he tell her something like that? Turning the page she continued to read. Vigilante groups? This was the first she was hearing of it.

Looking at the bottom of the page, Verity saw the journalist’s name and felt her heart stutter. Di Campbell. She’d seen that name before, Verity was good with names, and that name…

She pulled her phone out, flicking through photos, searching for the Cliffhaven newspaper clippings given to Theo with the donor reports. It was the same person, she was sure of it. But not just the same person, the same story. How in all the hells could the same reporter be writing the same article about two different places? It was impossible. But then there were the other articles she’d seen recently. Protests, anti-vampire vandalism. She’d helped write the article about Georgie herself. Every one of them mirrored the ones from Cliffhaven. How was that possible?

“How’s Lord Mayor Dickhead feel about glitter?” Cora asked, slipping into the seat beside Verity but she could barely hear her as her thoughts raced as fast as her fingers, searching for the pictures.

Other than the protests outside the Exchange, Verity hadn’t seen any of the unrest the article described. Rumours but nothing concrete. She travelled into town to see Theo almost everyday, she would have seen something. But if there were protests here and…

“What’s that?” Cora asked, snatching the phone from her hand.

“What? Have you seen the paper?” Verity asked, watching as Cora scrolled back and tapped on a video. “No,” she snapped, trying to take the phone back but Cora shot out of her seat, watching the video with a hand clutching her chest.

“What the fuck is this?”

“Cora, please. I can explain.” She reached for the phone again, but Cora was hitting replay, watching the video of Toby kissing another woman then checking the date.

“This was before he broke up with me,” she said, turning to Verity with wide, tear-filled eyes. “He was cheating on me.”

“Cora, I wanted to tell you…”

“He was cheating and you knew!”

“So much happened that day. I…” Verity scrambled to catch her phone as Cora threw it on the table. She searched for the right words but came up short. Her lip trembled, friendship slipping through her fingers. There was no excuse and she knew it.

“Cora, I’m so sorry.”

Cora turned her back, wiping her face. “I want you to leave.”

“Cora,” Verity begged.

“Please,” her friend snapped. “I need to think.”