“Hi, Nick, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Amanda, and this is Oakley.” Brooke glared at me until I added brightly, “And this is Brooke, the blogger who will be writing up the piece on Oakley.” I really needed to get my head out of my ass and start being more professional. I didn’t need to build a reputation of being difficult to work with. I silently vowed that from here on out, I was going to be super nice to Brooke.

“Is everybody ready to head over to our first meeting?” I asked. I looked at Nick and asked him if he could have his camera ready to take a couple of candid shots of Oakley meeting Cassandra Kitchen. I checked the packet and found the room number. After looking at the map, I started to lead the others down a hallway to the right. Nick took his camera out and started fiddling with it as we walked. I guess he was checking the lighting or exposure or something. I didn’t really know anything about photography except that, to hide a double chin when taking a selfie, you were supposed to hold your phone up above your head. Nick would occasionally stop and look through the lens as we navigated the maze of hallways to get to Mrs. Kitchen’s room. When we got to the right door, Nick checked a couple more things and said he was ready.

I told Oakley and Nick to go ahead of me and Brooke so that Nick could get some quick shots. Oakley knocked on the door, slowly opened it and said, “Hi, Mrs. Kitchen. I’m Oakley.” He started to walk through the door, and I heard Nick’s shutter click before hearing both of them scream, “OH MY GOD!”

My heart pounded, and I was instantly on high alert. The door was open, and both Nick and Oakley stood dumbfounded in the threshold. In the two seconds it took me to reach the entry to her room, I had convinced myself that the guys had just walked in to find Cassandra unresponsive and I was going to have to do mouth-to-mouth. We were at a nursing home, after all. I braced my hand on Oakley’s back and shoved at him, trying to make my way through the door to assess the issues when moans filtered through to my ear.

What the fuck? Was she choking? Why was no one moving? Oakley’s feet were like deep roots in the ground. “Move!” I yelled.

My voice seemed to shock both Oakley and Nick, because they started scrambling to get out of the way. It was like roaches were climbing up their backs with the way they were cringing. Nick’s long, lanky limbs curled as he gagged and pushed Brooke to the side. Oakley started nervously laughing and shaking his head as he exited. A worn voice yelled, “Shut the door!”