Page 83 of The Last Session

“I don’t know.” I glanced at Jonah, who watched her carefully.

“Well, you clearly weren’t following me, so I guess I’ll tell you. I’m a journalist.”

Steven’s words came back to me:Whatever you’re looking for, you’re not allowed to share it. If you’re, you know, a journalist or something.

“Investigating…” Jonah prompted.

“Moon and Sol. You?”

“A missing person,” I said. Jonah shot me a warning look.

“Oh.” Her eyebrows jumped. “Okay, that’s interesting.”

“Why don’t we find somewhere better to talk?” Jonah gestured.

“The roof?” I asked. “There’s a platform that’s pretty high up. And with the wind, I don’t think anyone will be able to hear us.”

“You’ve been up there?” Jonah looked surprised. He and Mikki followed me up the rickety staircase and out the door. I again slipped off a shoe to prevent the door from closing. Up here the wind was more intense, and I settled myself onto the ground by the door. No way was I getting near the edge.

It was a beautiful night view, the crescent moon and stars shining over the flat, rolling landscape.

“So how do we do this?” Jonah asked. The three of us instinctively huddled together; it was cold up here.

“Why don’t we share what we know?” Mikki asked.

“I can’t believe you’re a journalist.” I shook my head. “You seemed so…suspiciousof everything.”

She smirked. “I thought it’d be a good cover.”

I thought of her session, how she’d slept with her best friend’s husband. Had that all been a lie?

“Who do you work for?” Jonah asked.

“I’m freelance.” She pulled her hood over her head.

“So what are you investigating about Moon and Sol?” I asked.

“I used to live in LA, and my friend and I would go to this bougie yoga studio. Well, she’d go, because she could afford it, and I’d use her guest passes. There was this teacher that my friend loved, but I found kind of intense. Fast-forward ten years. I’m listening to this relationship podcast that Apple recommended to me—don’t judge—and I recognize the voice. It’s her. Sarah. But she’s calling herself Moon. And…” Mikki paused for dramatic effect. “She has a Mexican accent.”

“What?” I said.

Jonah leaned forward, his forehead creased. “So when she was teaching yoga…”

“No accent. Well, a very faint Southern one.” Mikki shrugged.

“Wow.” Moon’s whole persona was built on her traumatic past, growing up in a dangerous city in Mexico where her father had disappeared and her brother and childhood crush had died. Had she made everything up? The thought made me feel suddenly nauseous.

“She’d been presenting as white up until a few years ago,” Mikki went on. “Obviously, other people have done things like this, but no one’s found out yet. The podcast is in the top fifty in the relationships category; their audience is big and growing. This is going to be a huge story when it comes out.”

“Do you have any proof?” Jonah asked.

“I was able to get her last name from the yoga studio. Unfortunately, she was going by Sarah Smith—pretty impossible to track with normal search methods. But I did find her picture on an acting profile from eight years ago.”

“Sol told me he and Moon met at an audition.” I glanced at Jonah.“Sorry I forgot to fill you in. But I was thinking they must’ve met Catherine in LA.”

Jonah nodded, then turned to Mikki. “What else did you find out?”

“Well, I saw this negative comment on Reddit—”

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