Chapter 48

It was one of the perks of being an Alpha and the boss, I thought. Within an hour of him texting both the editor of Social Scene and Matilda were sitting across from us in his office.

We spent the next hour going over a plan and potential roadblocks we might encounter. It was educational to hear Sally's take on things, to hear the experience she brought of how to handle certain scenarios.

When we finished and Charles offered to order in dinner for all of us, I felt confident that Matilda and I were set up to be as successful as was possible.

It was a serious but slightly celebratory mood, full of anticipation and the knowledge that we were doing the right thing, that there was something wrong that we were going to be helping put it right.

Sally seemed like a new person. Instead of the tired, serious woman I'd come to know she was alert, her eyes full of fire and rattling off ideas that we all could hardly keep up with.

"This is the Sally I remember from my childhood," Charles said to me during a moment at the drinks cabinet as we loaded up glasses with ice. "She's caught the spark again."

"She's amazing," I say. "What knowledge and wisdom! We are lucky to have her working here."

"It's thanks to you, Elena. You know that right?"

"What do you mean?"

He smiled at me and held an empty glass as in a toast. "You wake people up."

I blushed and turned to the ice cubes to hide my face.

The city council meeting was set for 10:30 in the morning in the main conference room at City Hall. On Sally's advice, however, we were there two hours early.

"Really" Matilda grumbled as we went up the steps toward the large front doors. "Even the security guards look like they just got here."

When we entered, however, we found a crowd of people and a line to get in that snaked through the foyer as people waited for the security check.

Matilda raised her camera and began to snap photos of the line.

"If this is required for the meeting, why can't they have basic security for children at orphanages?" she pointed out and I nodded at her good point, jotting down notes as we moved slowly forward.

"No photos," a man in a suite with a clipped on badge said, holding a hand in front of Matilda's lens.

"We're press," I said and Matilda held up the badge around her neck.

"I don't care," he said. "No photos."

I was suddenly grateful for Sally's knowledge as she had prepped us for this very scenario.

"According to amendment 55 in the citizens’ rights laws," I began and he rolled his eyes but walked away.

We watched him go in silence and then glanced at each other.

"Does that mean we just won?" Matilda asked.

"I think round one goes to us, at least," I said, smiling at her. "And to Sally."

"No kidding."

Matilda continued to snap photos until we got through the security check, opened our bags, showed our ID and press badges which were then verified against a list of names the paper had sent over the day before.

We finally got inside almost an hour after we arrived. The conference room was eerily quiet, without even tech people setting up microphones.

"This isn't right," I said, a bad feeling in my gut.

Matilda nodded. She pulled out her phone. "Let's verify the location."

She checked as I looked around for someone to ask.

"It says conference room 1," Matilda said and we both looked at the number which read a large 1 above the door.

A woman carrying coffees and wearing an official badge turned the corner and walked by. I went after her and asked her what she knew about the city hall meeting.

"Oh, they've moved that."

"What? Where to?"

"I think the court building down the street."

"But that's illegal," I said, looking at Matilda in despair.

The woman shrugged and looked at her watch. "Not if they release the location within the next ten minutes. Have a good day."

She walked away, evidently used to this type of disturbance and drama.

I texted the orphanage ladies who respond that they were in the security line along with many other city employees.

"There's something going on," Mrs. Addison texted back. "It's not just us."

I didn't have time to ask her for clarification before we were back in the main foyer. We saw Mrs. Addison and Ms. Beale craning their necks to find us. We walked out and through the exit, walking up to them in line.

When we told them the news everyone around them went quiet, listening.

A few checked their phones. "Yep," a man with a briefcase noted. "They changed to location two minutes ago, the bastards."

"Typical power play and intimidation tactic," said another woman. "Where do we need to go?"

"Court building," a man on his phone responded.

There was a mad dash for the exits and Matilda and I were swept up with the crowd. I was able to get glimpses of badges and name tags around me and realized I was surrounded by all kinds of city workers.

What did it mean? Was it more than just the orphanage that was having problems?

As we went, I asked the woman who'd talked about power plays. "I'm with the department of transportation," she said, eager to talk when she saw my press badge.

"I don't know if you noticed the busses years ago were changed over to clean energy? Well, there have been usual maintenance issues and none of them, and I mean zero, have been followed up on. Three of the buses are out of commission which effects everything, and our drivers report a few more being on their last legs."

Another man was from the water department, another the power division.

Matilda and I looked at each other as we followed the quickly moving crowd down the block. An official looking man in a fire uniform looked at his pinging phone.

"Social media's all over this," he said. "Latest is they're closing the lists to anyone wanting to speak in ten minutes." He shook his head. "This is so blatantly obstructionist."

He broke into a run, as did many other people desperate to get their names on the list to speak in front of the council.

Matilda was snapping away, and I was trying to make notes and not trip at the same time.

We joined the line of angry, panting people waiting to get into the building and through security. Matilda and I let people who wanted to speak go in front of us, hoping to get them a better chance of putting their names on the list.

Many were upset and railing against the city into their phones or to whomever will listen. When they saw my press badge many made sure to speak to me and watch me note their names and departments.

I was also quickly running out of business cards as so many people wanted to send me follow up emails about what exactly was going on, asking for help making their situations known.

"I think we've obviously stumbled on something much bigger," I said to Matilda as we neared the entrance. "Charles was right. Something rotten is going on in our city."