“No,” Asher sighed in response, “Not bad. Just…”
Her words hadn’t been dishonest. Nothing she had written
had been false, which perhaps made it all the worse.
“Just didn’t know I came off that way.”
He offered a slight chuckle in hopes of sounding less
bothered than he was. It hadn’t been his intention
to earn her pity or to question her abilities as a
reporter, but- he’d been a bit shocked.
Whether or not he’d meant to earn her pity—he already
had it. He’d had it before she’d published his story, before,
even, their interview. It was the same pity she had the prewar
ghouls, living artifacts from a world blasted to hell and back,
and yet, in some ways, he had it worse. Piper couldn’t imagine
the culture shock that comes with being pulled from the cryogenic
womb after a 200-year nap, to find out everyone you ever loved
or knew was long dead (usually in one of a myriad horrible and
violent ways).
“I guess there’s a reason I’m in journalism and not PR,”
Piper offered a sympathetic smile to the man, almost more
upset that her article had missed its mark.
“But you’re going to be a hot topic”—ironically—“for a while
around here. Always time for a little image reconstruction. Follow-up
articles. You say the word and you’ve got at least a third-page spot,
guaranteed.”
Piper paused before picking up one of the papers strewn about
her makeshift office.
“What exactly was it you were surprised by?”
