Page 156 of Sugar & Shadows

“You yelled at them to get fucked out the car window,” he said, holding back laughter.

“Yes. Which was step one. They need to know I’m coming after them. It’s unfair to sick the full Sabrina Monroe experience on them with no notice.”

His eyes glinted as he grinned. “You are so scary, and yet so pretty.”

I rolled my eyes and reached for the door handle.

My phone buzzed, stopping me. Harper’s name appeared on the screen, so I answered and put it on speaker.

“I have so much to tell you⁠—”

“Not now.” Her voice was far more serious than any teenager’s had the right to be.

“You okay?” I asked, unease rolling through me.

“Your name is trending.” Her voice shook. “Something about Eastgate, federal violations, whistleblowing. and thyroid cancer?”

My vision blurred.

“Send everything,” I instructed softly. “Does Meg know?”

“Yes,” she said.

My phone buzzed. And then buzzed again.

She was forwarding me notifications, and they were stacking up faster than I could read them. Mentions, links, screenshots.

Gabe leaned closer, intent on the phone.

Disgraced DC Fixer Resurfaces in Vermont Town.

Aw, fuck. That nausea threatened to turn into more.

There I was, on the screen. An old photo. All-black suit, hair slicked back. Sharp and in control.

Sabrina Monroe, former DC fixer turned whistleblower, has resurfaced as an economic adviser to a small Vermont town.

Nausea rolled through me.

She caused a major scandal when, in violation of professional ethics, she blew the whistle to the federal government about client Eastgate’s industrial waste leak that contaminated local groundwater, resulting in a spike in thyroid cancer cases.

The words blurred as I started to cry.

Thyroid cancer. When I’d learned the details, I’d broken on the inside. And then I was once again a little girl, sitting inside a sterile waiting room while my mom wept.

Same diagnosis as my dad. A different town, with different families. But the same outcome.

“I don’t regret it.” Swallowing hard, I turned to Gabe. “But we worked hard to bury this. To take my name out of it and keep the focus on the victims and their rights.”

I sniffled as he continued reading.

“I was hired to ‘contain’ any possible scandal. Get to the root, pay off the right people, kill any press investigation, and keep the regulators away.

“But then I saw the reports and spoke to scientists. They knew the waste was leaching into the groundwater. They knew it caused cancer. They cut a few corners to keep shareholders happy, and there was a big leak. From there, real people, real families, paid the price.”

Harper, who was still on the phone, let out a sigh. “We’ll deal with this.”

“You can’t,” I said, swiping at my cheeks. Scandals like this weren’t containable. I’d know; I was the expert in containment.