America or even the White House. It made all the girls around him sigh dreamily, but when Lace looked at Grant, all she wanted to do was kill herself. How could she have been so stupid? How did she not see everything of him was just a lie? Beside Grant was an older man, his presence momentarily diverting her. He seemed familiar and not familiar at the same time, like someone she knew but couldn’t imagine having anything to do with Grant. Partially hidden behind the tall trees lining the street, she worked hard to catch a glimpse of his face while she huffed and puffed as silently as she could. Normally, a walk from the gym to her dorm would take twenty minutes, but this time she had managed it in twelve. Who would have thought fear would work greater wonders than Nike’s best running shoes? When the man turned towards her direction, their gazes immediately met, both of them recognizing each other. What the hell was Alfred Cohen doing here? An ex-Times journalist, he was supposedly kicked out of his old job after coming under suspicion for accepting bribes to not write about the truth.
