The answer was that I didn’t know. So I herded River out of the rink, out to the car and we hightailed it back to the house. Seeing there were paparazzi around our gate, I resisted the urge to give them the finger. Fuck, didn’t they have anything better to do? We weren’t big news. We might’ve been pro athletes, but we were small-time.

Apparently, it must have been a slow news week because they all snapped photos as we drove through the gate. River snarled, his hand on the door handle like he was personally going to go out there and take his frustrations out on every single one of them.

“Stop. You’re just giving them what they want.” I did skid the tires a little so rocks flew up in their faces and at their precious camera equipment, though. Hazard of being a vulture, right?

I threw the car in park right in front of the door, climbing out quickly and keeping my face averted. They weren’t going to get any cheap shots now.

Striding into the living room, it was empty, though the television was on. I quickly turned it off before something we didn’t want to see came on and then we’d be stuck with another broken piece of tech when River inevitably put his fist through it.

A small noise from the kitchen had me sprinting toward the room, but when we rounded the corner, it was Devan. He looked rough. Huey was cradled to his chest, a bottle between his lips even as his eyes fluttered with sleep.

“Where is she?”

“Upstairs in the media room. She’s on the phone with her friend Chloe.” He put the baby over his shoulder, burping him gently. River turned, heading up the stairs before I could stop him. Dev and I watched him go, and I had a bad feeling in my gut.

“How’s she taking it?”

Devan shook his head, his lips pressed tight and his jaw tense like he didn’t want to be the bearer of bad news. Dread settled on my chest, and I resisted the urge to chase after River, to kiss Nova and hold her in my arms until she knew all this bullshit was just that. Shit. We were what mattered, not the opinions of the rest of the world.

“The lawyers?”

Devan let out a long, defeated sigh. “Nothing they can do. They sent cease and desist letters on our behalf, on her behalf—hell, I even did it on Muss’s behalf. They’re refusing to print a retraction. I’ll sue the bastards until they’re bankrupt for defamation of character if I have to. Someone is gonna pay for this, Rigby.”

Huey was asleep over Devan’s shoulder, and I reached up, taking him and settling him in my arms. I looked down at the sleeping baby, so blissfully unaware of the turmoil of his guardians.