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the big secret, ya know.”
    “What is?” she asked, her voice uneven.
    “The reason I’m here,” I said, gesturing to my hospital bed. “I’m not an addict, Casey. I’m bipolar.”
    Shock washed over her face. It was uncomfortable to watch.
    Bipolar.
    Such an ugly word. It matched my fucking life perfectly. It was the last word I said to Casey before she took off running.
    There’s my answer, I thought, catching one last glimpse of her chestnut hair as it whipped in the air before she turned the corner.

Chapter 9

    Casey

    Anchor/Kiki Stuart: Whoa! So you find out that Finn Daley is bipolar, not a drug addict like you originally thought. How did you feel in that moment?

    Casey: Scared, sad, guilty, I guess.

    Finn: And don’t forget freaked out. I’ve never seen someone run so fast.

    Casey: I was running to save you from another media blasting, you moron!

    Finn: As you can see, she no longer has guilt about my disorder.

    Casey: What? You want me to baby you because your brain doesn’t work right? I’ve got news for you pal, we all have issues.

    I had screwed things up to such massive proportions, I didn’t know what to do. I officially fucked over the only guy I’ve ever fallen for – all in the name of a career and a life I wasn’t sure I even wanted anymore.
    “I made a mistake,” I told my boss when I got to the station.
    “About?” he asked, bored.
    “About the drugs.” I leaned in on his desk to emphasize my point.
    “Aw, did he rope you back in again?” Phil peered at me over his glasses, making him look at least two full decades older than his twenty-something years.
    “I’m serious, Phil. We need to kill the story.”
    “Kill it? Well, it’s too late for that. Tina’s second teaser article is running this week. And then you’re up. These articles are leading up to your big splash. The moment you’ve been salivating over since you arrived. ”
    “Have you ever heard of libel?” I asked, infuriated. He didn’t care one iota about ethics or good journalism. He just cared about getting a juicy story. Or maybe it was getting in Tina’s pants. He insisted that working the cross promotion between the TV station and a newspaper was part of his role – because the Randolph Family Corporation owned them both. Back in the day, the FCC never would’ve allowed a corporation to own a TV station and newspaper, but this was a time where preserving integrity and objectivity wasn’t as important as preserving the almighty dollar.
    It was a win-win, Phil always said. Much easier to create our own buzz this way. I wondered what kind of buzz my boss was creating with the suits at the station – leveraging my lead on Finn to his benefit, I was sure.
    “Lighten up.” Phil kicked up his feet and placed them on his desk. He was going for cool, but it just looked awkward. The man was about as flexible as the IRS.
    “I will not,” I told him. “And I promise, it won’t be just me going down when the shit hits. You’ll be joining me.”
    “That’s where you’re wrong. You got yourself into this mess, you’ll get yourself out of it. Give me something, or I’m going to let Tina run with the whole thing. You have two days.”

    ***

    “What’s going on, Case?” Mack asked after I left Phil’s office. “The Mole’s been acting like Taco Bell went out of business all week. Is he still pissy about that Buns-n-Bowties bit?”
    “I wish,” I told her.
    “What is it then?”
    I shrugged, not wanting to go over it again.
    “Spill it, lady,” Mack said.
    “Well, it seems I’ve gotten myself into a huge mess,” I finally said.
    “Can’t be that bad.”
    “It’s worse,” I argued.
    “Does it have to do with your super-secret project for sweeps?”
    I nodded.
    “Tell me,” she said. “Maybe I can help.”
    “Nobody can help. I’ve gotten myself into this on my own, and now I have to fix it.”
    “At least tell me who it’s about.”
    “Finn Daley.”
    She paused for a long