Chapter 20. Juliet, the Model #2
“I figured—” She cleared her throat. “We figured—that since we were all here in one place, celebrating your tour, it would be a good time to talk about how to deal with the cops and the press.” Juliet took a deep breath. Time to be brave. “I’ve been glued to the internet ever since the case broke—”
Scout flinched.
“And I think brushing it under the rug is the wrong approach. Scout, I think you should embrace the accusations.”
All the women in the circle who didn’t know this was coming started to murmur.
“Not all of them,” Juliet added hurriedly. “Obviously. But have you been on social media? Are you reading the comments on the Times article? People love you. You have an opportunity.”
Isabel was studying her curiously, like Juliet had revealed herself for the first time.
“You all helped me when I needed it.” Juliet was nearly shaking with nerves. She’d longed to give back to them, and then this idea had occurred to her. “I think this could be your moment to help more people. Make the circle wider.”
Miranda jumped in. “She’s not exaggerating about the impact you’re having. I watched the news last night, and there’s a group of women in Ohio protesting a birth control ban, wearing shirts with your face on them.”
“Jesus,” said Isabel. “Why?”
“There’s also this college senior on trial for rape in South Carolina,” Cara said. “They think he might get off with a slap on the wrist, so a group of women are using the hashtag Hot Girl Murder Club to plan sit-ins outside the courthouse.” She blushed. “I’ve been following it on TikTok.”
“That’s just the tip of the iceberg,” Juliet promised.
“Ever since the Times article came out, you mean something to people.” She turned to the rest of the women.
“This whole group does. Think about what would happen if I could tell people how we stood up to Danny, or Miranda could talk about her ex-husband—”
“Tell people?” Scout looked genuinely shocked. She turned to Cybele. “Did you know about this?”
Cybele shrugged. “I’m not Miranda’s keeper.” She glanced at Miranda, and there was no hiding the affection in her eyes. “But I did warn her you might not like the idea.”
“You guys, I appreciate the spirit of what you’re saying, that this whole shitstorm is having some unexpected side effects.
But there’s no way I’m admitting to anything.
No matter how small.” Scout searched the faces around the circle.
“And I really need you to stick with me. You remember our vows, don’t you? ”
Juliet recited the words in her mind as Scout spoke them, appreciating how they echoed a rhythms of a psalm she’d learned in church, making them easy to remember: “I walk in the shadows but am not afraid, because you are with me. There is no such thing as one woman alone. We take our secrets to our graves.” She didn’t know why so many of their rituals mimicked the rites of the church, hand gestures and vows and clandestine confessions, whether years ago Scout or whoever started this had simply reached for what was nearest, a familiar example of devotion, but the rightness of it rang through her.
Juliet wasn’t religious; even in Mississippi, few people she knew had been.
But being part of this group felt like scratching an itch she hadn’t realized she’d had, or awakening a long-dormant instinct, the desire to believe in something bigger than herself.
Maybe the desire had lived inside her like an appendix, its usefulness belonging to an elder age, until Scout and the others showed her how to use it.
“We would never betray you,” Miranda promised, her British accent thickening with her emotion. “We just think you have an opportunity to do something important. If you leaned into the fact that you’re a role model—”
“I’m facing murder accusations, Miranda.
” Scout’s voice reverberated through the high-ceilinged hotel conference room.
“The detective promised she was going to end me, and I believe her. Every person in this room knows how hard the cops are capable of fucking up, because it’s part of why we’re here.
Don’t you understand how serious this is?
What happens if the cops take me down and decide to keep their investigation going?
You know the things we’ve done for each other. Everyone in this room is at risk.”
Dead silence filled the room. Goose bumps rose on Juliet’s arms, and she realized it was Scout’s fear, so thick it transferred through the air. “The cops might see pulling a gun on Danny as illegal,” Juliet protested, “but your fans—”
“Jesus, Juliet. Stop.” Scout turned on her heels and stalked to the door, throwing it open and then slamming it shut behind her.
Juliet’s heart plummeted.
“I’m sorry.” Isabel took a deep breath. “She’s been trying to act like everything’s under control, but she’s facing enormous pressure.”
A chastened hush filled the room. Isabel left, and one by one, the women trailed after her, until Juliet was left standing alone with Cara, Miranda, and Cybele, her coconspirators.
“We’ve never argued like that before,” said Miranda softly.
Juliet knew she should feel repentant. Maybe even humiliated, to have called her first meeting and proposed something so unpopular. But she wasn’t ashamed.
She was angry.