Nanette walked over to the man, her steps a little shaky, and looped her arms around his neck. “You don’t want to see Petty?”
The man stared back at her, eyes icy. He pushed her hands away. “What do you want from me?”
“Nothing.” Nanette just calmly put her arms around his neck again. “I’d be happy if you stopped acting so cold toward me, that’s all.”
…
The park was buzzing today with the excitement of a half-marathon. Petty was there to cover the event as a reporter. Even from a distance, before her car had reached the entrance, she could sense the rush of energy from the runners, men and women pushing themselves, laughter and cheers filling the air.
Later, while the race was still going, Petty took a sip from her water bottle. She spotted an elderly man picking up empty bottles not far away. She finished the last bit of her water, then walked over and handed him her bottle.
“Thank you,” the man said.
Petty smiled and simply shook her head.
Suddenly, a strange chill crept over her. For a second, she felt like something bad was about to happen.
At that moment, someone nearby gasped, “Oh my god, Franco’s under investigation!”
“What? What happened?”
A small group crowded around a phone, eyes glued to the screen.
“They found drugs. And someone died at his club from an overdose…”
…
Five minutes earlier.

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