His Conspiracy Girl (Emerald City #4) Read Online Free Page A

her hair, and crossed her legs at the knee. “I’m going to ask you a series of questions—I have a list, but not a script. Treat this like you would any conversation, and we can edit whatever we need to during post-production. Don’t feel you have to censor yourself.”
    It was about time. In the past, he’d always kept his thoughts about the situation to himself. But today, and for the length of this documentary, he wanted the unfiltered truth out there. It was the best way to do this.
     
    *
     
    Morgana had been completely thrown off-guard when he’d answered the door. More than fifty percent of the population had some kind of implant, and at least half of those had prosthetics, so there was no reason for her to think a random stranger in the bar would be her documentary subject.
    She’d heard the guy was a shut-in, and his greeting when she and her crew had shown up at his door had done confirmed that.
    Now he sat across from her, watching her expectantly, organic fingers drumming on his knee. And looking as good as she he had the night before. Something wasn’t fair about that. She was grateful that this being an interview gave her permission to stare, as she launched into her opening question. “Camden. Ten years, and you’ve never granted an in-person interview before, or allowed anyone to take your picture. And now you’re letting us film entire portions of your life. What changed?”
    His entire frame stiffened. He took a deep breath, and relaxed his posture. “I want the world to know about those in the accident who weren’t as fortunate as me. Those who—” He swallowed, and his jaw clenched. “Those who didn’t survive to be a poster boy for CyGes.”
    She kept her expression calm and soft, always aware of the nearby cameras. At least he’d gotten straight to what she really wanted to ask about. Guilt was already creeping in for what she was going to do, but she could almost convince herself it was okay, if he was the one who broached the subject. “Like your sister and niece?”
    “Exactly like them.” His tone was causal, but his back was ramrod straight, and his jaw clenched. “Both were good, amazing people. No one remembers their names but me. I’d like the world to know who they were.”
    She had expected him to be antagonistic. Her boss had told her the guy had been a conspiracy nut, back in the day, and Camden hadn’t exactly been sociable since she and her people had arrived. But this honest, raw side of him gnawed at her. She’d been told to make the story good. To make the public see all sides of Camden. No one wanted boring documentaries. They wanted drama and grit, and to know this was devouring him.
    “Stop hesitating.” Matt’s quiet insistence echoed in her earpiece. He was far enough away Camden wouldn’t hear him, but even without his prompting she knew she had to do this.
    “Who they were, before you coerced them to move to a city your sister wanted nothing to do with? Before you dragged them away from their hometown? Or after?” The words cut, moving past her lips, and she wished she could take them back. Instead, she kept her tone smooth and professional.
    He flared his nostrils flared, and widened his eyes. “I didn’t coerce anyone into anything. The schools are better here. The tech is better. My niece needed this environment.”
    Her head swam with revulsion about what she had to do. She inhaled through her nose to regain her composure. “So you and your sister never argued about it?”
    His shoulder jerked when he shrugged, as if he were forcing the casual gesture. “That’s what siblings do. I never forced her into anything.”
    Guilt twinged inside her—a feeling she didn’t like. “So on the day of the accident, the day her neighbors heard her screaming about how she didn’t need her child to attend some snotty upper class pre-school to prove she was smart, you left her alone and just went home?”
    If he had been tense before, it was nothing