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CHAPTER39
MEGAN
I woke up feeling sick.It’s been the first time in a long time that I’ve felt this crappy. I thought the morning sickness was supposed to go away after the first trimester—and with the help of the meds. But here I am, nibbling on saltines at thirty-five weeks pregnant. At least my belly is big enough to catch the crumbs before they fall into my sheets.
“Knock knock,” Ainsley says before nudging inside. “Feeling any better?”
“Some,” I say. “Hard not to feel better when there’s nothing left inside to vomit.”
“That’s disgusting.”
I arch an eyebrow at her in the dim lamplight. This time of year, the light is so odd. I’m still not used to living so far north where the sun doesn’t come up until almost eight, and it’s down by five. And the days are only getting shorter.
“What time is it?” I ask.
She checks her phone. “Seven forty—” Her eyes go wide and her mouth hangs open.
“What?”
Her eyes flicker up to mine, and she frowns.
“Have you heard from Derek?”
My stomach tightens and I feel queasy all over again. I haven’t seen or heard much from him since he snuck out after we had sex a couple days ago. We’ve texted a little bit, but it’s strained.
“We’ve barely spoken,” I say softly.
She crinkles her brows and purses her lips. “I think I know why.”
I try to push myself off the bed, but a fresh wave of nausea hits and Ainsley crosses to the bed instead, motioning for me to stay where I am.
“His team has been under investigation for some recruiting violations.”
“What?”
“It sounds bad.”
“Can I see?”
She passes the phone to me and my heart falls. For a moment it’s as if I’ve forgotten where I am and what’s happening. I can see the headline, and there’s a collage of images, of some people I recognize, some I don’t. An older man who the caption says is Portland’s Athletic Director, Michael Washington. There’s a picture of Derek at a hockey game. But then there are several photos of a woman. A woman I’ve met before.
“That’s Karlie,” I say.
“Who?” Ainsley asks, looking over my shoulder. I read the caption, but it doesn’t sink in.
Karlie Lumiens is accused of attending and providing unspecified services, believed to be of a sexual nature, to underage prospects for the Benham State men’s hockey team. The team’s coach, Sam Hirschfeld, has pled guilty to hiring a sex worker in Oregon while hosting a clinic for area recruits.
Hirschfeld, a former assistant coach at Portland, may have hosted similar events while he was still coaching the Rapids’ men’s hockey team. An inside source, who spoke to us under the condition of anonymity, says that Hirschfeld has implicated current staff at Portland University.
I stop reading.
“Fucking fucker,” Ainsley hisses.
I gag on the crackers I just ate and clamp a hand over my mouth as she grabs a garbage can and holds it out for me.
My phone rattles against my nightstand and she reaches for it. Her eyes narrow, and I don’t need to ask to know who it is. I shake my head, and she forwards it to voice mail.
“There’s no proof yet,” she says, reading on.
