Iris
I blink at my phone screen, my thumb hovering over the article that’s just popped up in my notifications. The headline makes my stomach drop: “Famous Artist Hunter Maverick’s Secret Family Revealed?”
There’s a photo beneath it—Hunter, Miles, and me at the Abbott Gallery presentation yesterday. Miles is grinning up at Hunter, who is crouched in front of him with a matching smile of his own. I’m standing nearby, watching the two of them with a tender look on my face.
An innocent moment, that’s what it was. Or at least, it should have been.
But, as always, the media has an uncanny way of twisting things. I should have known better—should have known better than to take Miles out in public knowing fully well just how easy it is to be recognized. Especially at a public event
