The walls were bare wood and glass, looking out over the windy runway.

A single microphone stood on a small podium.

“They want me to stand with you,” I said, looking at the cameras.

“No,” Blake said. “This is my mess. You stay behind the lens.”

He took off his overcoat and tossed it onto a vinyl chair.

He rolled up his sleeves, his face grim.

The technician in the corner raised his hand. “Going live in three, two…”

The red light on the main camera turned solid.

Blake stepped up to the podium.

“Good afternoon,” he said, his voice steady and deep.

“Over the last two hours, several media outlets have published stories about my personal life.”

“They claim Emma Winters hid my three sons from me for financial gain.”

He paused, looking directly into the lens.

“That is an absolute lie.”

“The truth is, I was a coward.”

I stood in the shadows near the soundboard, my fingers gripping the edge of the plastic table.

“Years ago, I walked away from the woman I loved because I was terrified of my family’s influence,” Blake said.