“What?” I’m thinking the kid must have me mixed up with someone else.

“Yeah,” the young guy says, pointing to the stack of Lake Tahoe Gazettes by the door. “Front page.”

I grab one of the papers and stare at it. There’s a huge photo above the fold of me coming up out of the water with the girl in my arms. My hair is wet and my expression is serious—but my identity is unmistakable.

The headline says, HERO SAVES DROWNING GIRL.

The byline says, BY HANNAH RYAN.

Claire crowds in next to me and looks at the picture. Her mouth turns into an O.

“Oh, my God,” she says. “That’s you. You’re going to be famous!”

CHAPTER 7

HANNAH IS SITTING at her desk trying to write about an uneventful city council meeting when she gets a call from the receptionist telling her that a man named Logan Bishop is in the lobby for her.

“He’s cute,” the receptionist whispers into the phone, then adds, “Holy shit. Is that the guy on the front page?”

“I’ll be right there,” Hannah says.

The newsroom is a large open-air office space, with the reporters wedged into cramped cubicles. Hannah strolls over the gray stained carpet as if she’s gliding on mist.

When she opens the door to the lobby, the receptionist points outside and says he’s waiting for her there. She can see him through the glass double doors, pacing as if nervous. His hair is damp and his T-shirt is sweat stained, as if he came straight from the gym.

Hannah steps outside with an enormous smile on her face. She can’t help it. But then she looks at him more closely—his face pinched, his teeth clenched, his skin strangely flushed—and her smile vanishes.

“You’re mad?” she says.

“Hell, yes, I’m mad,” he says, holding up the paper and pointing to his picture. “What the hell is this?”

“I’m sorry,” she says. “I was just doing my job.”

Logan can barely contain his anger. “Your fucking job?”

Hannah feels suddenly very defensive. She was shy yesterday, but on the job, she has the utmost confidence. “Yes,” she snaps. “I report the news.” She points to the paper. “That is news, whether you like it or not.”

“This is no one’s business,” he says. “You don’t understand what you’ve done.”

“Help me understand,” she says. “Tell me.”

“Why? So you can put it in the fucking paper?”

Hannah doesn’t respond. The two of them are standing in the grass outside of the building. The air is chilly, and the gray sky creates a melancholy ambience. This isn’t how she wanted their next meeting to go.

Logan takes a deep breath. It seems like much of his anger has drained from him. He’s still upset, but the anger has turned to something else. Resignation. Helplessness.