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Camilla Queen pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger as she inhaled deeply through her mouth.
She began to cough profusely when the pungent smell of the sewers invaded her senses.
“Sometimes, I wonder why I even wanted to be a journalist,” she muttered under her breath as her face contorted in disgust.
Camilla Queen wanted to be a journalist for as long as she could remember. Ever since she was little, she’d ride her bike around the neighborhood with her little pen and notebook, jotting down information when she could, and searching for clues when people weren’t forthcoming with their answers.
