Something was off. The gossip story had more holes than Swiss cheese. But the photos. They looked real. They were from Sydney and someplace called Byron Bay. And Cindy had said Logan’s last movie had been filmed in Australia.
Sam downed his coffee dregs, swallowing the hard and horrible truth. Becky had hidden her past connection with Logan. Hidden her meetings with Logan in Gilead. Sam had only seen them talking a couple of times, and only ever at the play.
Would Becky secretly see Logan at the same time she was pretending to be in a fake relationship with Sam? She wouldn’t have been cheating on Sam. Not technically. The fake relationship was a mistake. They’d fixed the mistake by making it real, but now he had doubts and regrets.
He messaged Becky and Cindy, canceling dinner plans for tonight. He’d see Becky tomorrow and take time out to pray and think.
Miley had started seeing Matt before she’d dumped Sam. He’d found out later from Pete that Miley had been looking to replace Sam, to discard him like an unwanted old toy. He’d been blindsided by Miley. More doubts plagued his mind. How well did he know Becky? Could he trust her?
* * *
Becky walked along the hall toward her next class that commenced in five minutes. Only two days of classes before spring break. Good Friday was tomorrow, and a public holiday in Australia. She’d discovered that Easter in the States was different to home.
Sam had sent her and Cindy a message earlier today, canceling their dinner plans for tonight. Cindy suspected Sam’s message was connected to his father. Sam’s dad had failed to visit him in Gilead yesterday afternoon.
Becky prayed Sam’s parents could reconcile this weekend at the ranch. Her parents’ marriage had always been solid. She couldn’t imagine the turmoil Sam was experiencing, being an only child and in the middle of the marital mess.
Her phone beeped and she checked her messages. Logan. He wanted to meet her in twenty minutes.
She paused and pressed her lips together. Why couldn’t Logan wait until her lunch break? He knew her class schedule. She’d have to cut class to meet him. It should be okay, considering it was her last class before spring break.
She headed for the exit, feeling like a naughty high school student sneaking off campus. Logan had sent her a list of instructions. Detailed instructions, including what to wear and to remove all visible jewelry. That was odd. Why did her appearance matter?
The paparazzi were around. Photographers and Logan fans had descended on Gilead like a plague. A meeting at the pond, one of their main meeting places, was risky.
Within ten minutes she’d changed in her dorm and found the right baseball cap and sunglasses. She’d make it to the pond on time without needing to jog. Would it matter if she was late?
Becky approached the pond and spotted Logan in his usual position on the bench seat.
She sat on the bench and turned to him. “What’s up?”
Logan’s eyes were hidden behind sunglasses. “A lot. Don’t remove your sunglasses or hat.”
“Okay.” A normal request. She drew in a shaky breath. Logan looked relaxed, but she’d heard hints of tension in his voice. Something was wrong.
“Have you seen any news from Australia today?”
She shook her head.
“I want you to look up a URL. Take screenshots of the whole article and save the photos.”
“Sure.” She typed the news site URL into her phone and covered her mouth with her hand. No. That headline and photo was wrong. Logan was not her secret fiancé. Gossip garbage. The whole article was a dumpster truck of lies.
She read the lies, refusing to cry. Or laugh at the insanity of the claims. She understood Logan’s no jewelry instructions and placed her hands on her knees. Her bare fingers and fingernails that needed a manicure were on display for hidden photographers who could zoom in with their cameras.
One day, this might be a funny memory. Right now, it was her living nightmare.
She saved the screenshots and photos and turned toward Logan. “How? Why? Can we talk here?”
“We can relax. We’re recreating one of the article photos. The paps can’t make money from selling the same photo.”
“I guess so. I’m trying to process what’s happening.”
He nodded. “The source is Australia. Probably Sydney. My people are on it.”
“When did the article drop?”
“At eight this morning, Gilead time.”
