The camera clicked again. This time it was louder and closer. Just a few feet down the alley, the man emerged from behind a bin, crouched low, a telephoto lens gleaming through the rain.
It fired off more loud clicks.
Whatever trance they were in got broken as Evie flinched at the sound.
Tommy stepped forward. "Hey! Back off!"
The photographer didn't stop. There was another click and another flash as he advanced like a vulture, the lens aimed at Evie now, devouring her grief.
Evie stood still, rain dripping from her chin, heart pounding in her throat. She felt emotionally stripped. All the swirling hurt and fear was laid bare for this stranger and his lenses.
"Evie," Tommy said, turning back. "Let's get inside. Please."
She didn't move, just stood there like her feet were glued to the spot.
"Come on, babe. We need to leave," he pleaded with her.
"No, you need to leave," she said sharply.
"What?"
"I said you need to go," she repeated, louder now, stepping back from him.
Tommy hesitated, glancing at the camera.
"Evie, we can't do this out here. They'll twist everything..."
"And whose fault is that?" she snapped. "You gave them the first photo op."
Another click. The photographer drew closer, emboldened by the drama.
Evie's voice dropped low and venomous. "This is what you were concerned about, isn't it?"
"I care about you!" Tommy hissed.
She laughed. It was bitter and hollow. "Then maybe you should've started acting like it before dinner with Alexa f*ck*ng Donovan."
Behind them, the flash pulsed again.
Tommy turned and stormed toward the photographer, rage rising. "Delete it! Or I'll break your f*ck*ng camera!"
"Tommy," Evie warned.
He kept advancing on the man. The photographer stepped back, smirking, but didn't run.
Tommy reached for the lens. "You're done."
The man swiveled away just in time. "Assaulting me won't change your story!" he shouted, retreating, but the damage was done.
More photos were snapped in a flurry as another figure appeared down the alley. It was a second camera. A second leech.
Tommy froze. "Goddammit."
Evie took several steps away from both of them, toward the shop's back door. Her body shook, not from the cold, but the sheer violation of it all.
And still, Tommy didn't follow. He turned back toward her, soaked through with the rain slicking his hair to his forehead.
"They're going to make it worse," he said breathlessly.
"You made it worse," she replied.
He blinked. "Evie—"
She pointed at the cameras. "This is your world, Tommy. Yours. Not mine. I didn't sign up to be exposed like this."
He stepped toward her. "We can handle it together. I'll fix it."
"You can't fix this," she snapped, backing up. "You want to put a bow on this disaster and hope no one sees what's underneath?"
"I'm doing my best!" he yelled.
"You're doing your best to protect yourself!" she yelled back.
And then her voice lowered, deadly: "Even now, you're still choosing the lie."
That stopped him in his tracks. For a moment, the alley fell silent again.
Then, she continued. "You had a choice. And you chose her, you chose your mother."
Tommy's chest rose and fell. "I didn't want to lose everything."
"You already did."
Her words hit harder than a slap. And with that blow, she turned for the door.
That's when headlights spilled into the alley.
Their brightness pierced the rainy gloom like a scalpel. Tommy's spine straightened as he awaited the vehicle. Evie paused, half-turned.
A sleek, black town car pulled up and the door opened. Out stepped Allison Mackenzie.
Not a drop of rain touched her. A chauffeur held an umbrella above her like a hovering black halo. She looked dry, polished, and ice-cold.
"Well," she said smoothly, surveying the chaos. "That escalated."
Tommy's expression twisted. "What the hell are you doing here?"
Evie said nothing but she had grown even more tense than she was during the argument with Tommy. Allison's gaze swept over her, unimpressed.
"I came to check on my son," she said lightly, stepping forward. "Imagine my surprise when I find him shouting in an alley with paparazzi flanking him."
Evie turned sharply, her voice cutting. "Did you enjoy your setup?"
The accusation was so bold and unexpected that Allison's eyes sparkled. "I don't know what you mean, dear."
"You set him up," Evie spat. "I doubt that dinner, the cameras or the timing was an accident."
Tommy looked between them, realization dawning.
"You knew they'd be there," he said, his voice hollow.
Allison smiled like a cat with blood on its whiskers. "Publicity, darling. It's the air we breathe. You needed the reminder."
"Reminder of what?" Tommy demanded.
"That love," she said, voice like a dagger, "is a poor replacement for strategy."
Evie stepped toward her. "You're manipulative."
"And you're disposable," Allison replied without blinking. "Do you think this little performance earns you sympathy? The world doesn't love messy girls."
Evie froze, the mean words darting into her chest like a sniper's shot.
Tommy stepped between them. "Back off, Mum. That's enough."
"I will," Allison said. "Once you come to your senses and come home."
Tommy stared at her. "You're joking."
"I'm not." She stepped closer. "This is a family matter now. And you've made a public mess. Either you come with me and do what's necessary… or you both go down together."
Evie stared at him, searching for an answer.
Say something! her stare seemed to yell.
Tommy just looked at the ground.
Allison turned to go but right before getting into the car, she glanced back and added,
"You still have time to choose, Tommy. But not much."
She ducked into the car. The umbrella folded away and the door slammed shut. Then they were gone.
Evie walked to the door, yanked it open. She paused briefly at the threshold. "You made your choice, Tommy. I'm about to make mine."
"No, Evie. Wait..." Tommy called out.
She disappeared inside and the door shut behind her.