We were all lured back into security, relieved that this fight wasn’t blown up any more than the other’s had been. Aiden and Spencer kept it extremely quiet that Spencer was pregnant, in fact only the family knew. I hadn’t really talked to my sister in law since that day in Ashley’s kitchen but I hoped that she was embracing the pregnancy more than she had been. On New Year’s they had all rushed off as soon as they finished eating so no one really got a chance to talk privately with any of them.

About two weeks into January though, I was working on my latest article when my editor in chief called me.

“Rachel!” The woman was English and one of the smartest women I’d ever met in my life. I respected her because she didn’t run news like the tabloids did; instead she had real pieces, with real information, and evidence to back it up.

“Hey Emma,” I answered distractedly, fixing some of my punctuation errors.

“Rach, I’m gonna be straight up with you. You know that I would never dream of asking you for information on your family.” I sat up and listened more closely at this. When people started to learn that I was close to the Trio they had all expected that I would be dishing out stories and telling the whole world their business but I’d already told my boss on multiple occasions that my personal and professional life were to be kept far away from each other. I even refused to try and get them interviews with the famous three.

“Yeah, I know Emma,” I replied, trying to prompt her to continue.

“Well, I just wanted to warn you that something big is happening, and we’re covering it. It’ll be the major headline. The only reason I’m warning you is that I know how adamant you are in keeping your life as peaceful as possible.”

“What is it?” She must’ve heard the worry in my voice because she paused for a moment, as if deliberating.

“I’m emailing you the story now, but Rach, don’t try to change our minds. We have a guaranteed exclusive on this and I’m not willing to risk it. We’re running it tomorrow.” I told her that I understood and she hastily hung up the phone as I pulled up my email. I reached over for my mug of hot tea, sipping the liquid to try and calm the nervousness that was building. I clicked on the email and then the link to the story. The tea that had been in my mouth suddenly covered my laptop’s screen. I was coughing hysterically and trying to clear my eyes of the tears that had filled them so that I could check to see if I had read the title of the article right. But sure enough I’d read the large, bolded print right.

                                Aiden Dennison’s Love Child?