“No, I’m not,” I finally say, wiping bacon grease from my mouth. “It’s a fucking car wreck. Of course you couldn’t look away. And it’s even more tantalizing because you knew one of the key players.” The room itself seems to exhale with relief. Quinn pours himself the last of the prosecco, no orange juice. Sam sits back down.

“Well, do you want to hear my advice, then? You’ve probably thought about this yourself,” Sam says.

I shrug. “Yeah, sure. Whatever.”

They rub their hands together, like a cartoon villain. “Use her. Use Page for your redemption arc. How amazing would that story be? The mistress and the mourning sister brought together by their need for connection. ‘Anyone can learn to love one another, even two people the opposite ends of a murder.’ It would be fantastic for you. And you said she’s lonely, anyway, so what’s the loss? You’ll be doing her a favor.” Their eyes bulge in anticipation. “But here’s the clincher.” They turn to Quinn. “You’re going to write it.”

Quinn knocks back his prosecco. “Me? Are you out of your mind?”

“A little.” They shoot me a wry glance. “Everyone and their mother knows you’re tired of shuffling papers. You pretend that this is the way it goes, that you’re so grateful to be working for such media legends.” Quinn looks like he’s going to throttle Sam, but Sam holds up a palm to silence him. “Don’t deny it. No one blames you for it. We all know how talented you are. This is what you do. Vera, you get to know Page super well, do whatever she wants you to do. Then, when the timing is right, you spring the idea of Quinn, your Journalist Friend, writing a story about your friendship. It’ll be very respectful, Quinn has known you for years, he only has your best interests at heart, you’ll be able to control your narratives, blah blah blah.” They pause for dramatic effect. “And the best part is? What if something else comes out? Another affair Tom had? Some kind of clue that he had a propensity for violence? Quinn, you’ll have exclusive access to the inside story behind the biggest murder to hit rich white New Yorkers since the Killer Nanny. Your career will skyrocket! Vera, everyone will pity you! It’s a win-win. All I ask is that when the time comes, I take the photos.” They rap the wall as if to say fin.

We stare at them, dumbfounded.

Until finally, to our shock, Quinn says, “You are insane. But I guess the craziest ideas are sometimes the ones worth pursuing. But only if Vera consents.”