Chapter 28 #2
They all laugh. “Oh my gosh,” Bree says. “Yes, of course it is! It’s all very kosher. We’re not manipulating anything—we’re just helping to reframe the conversation into a more productive direction.”
“If I can add something?” Sophia the publicist says.
“Even with the help of our influencers, everything will shift very organically, so it’s definitely ethical.
Not everyone is going to agree with the reframing of the narrative, and that’s okay!
I think we should embrace it. What’s so special about your story is that everyone can relate to it, so we should lean into that.
I’m thinking interviews and op-eds with the headline ‘You Hate Her. You Are Her.’”
“I love that,” Julia says.
“This is why Sophia’s on the team,” Martin says. “She’s the best publicist.”
“Oh, stop it,” Sophia says, laughing. “But I think that’ll make you an even easier sell. You can love her or hate her, but you can’t stop relating to her.”
Everyone is being so cheerful on the call that it’s infectious.
Only minutes ago I’d literally been sprawled on the floor, wondering if I should just end it all, and all of a sudden I find out that I have an entire team of people wanting to save me.
The thought is so overwhelming that before I know it, a choked sob burbles out of me.
“Aww, Fern,” Rachel says. “I know. It’s a lot to take in.”
I shake my head, trying to blink away my tears. “It’s not that. I mean, yes, it’s a lot, but I’m just so grateful that you’re not giving up on me.”
“Oh my gosh,” Julia says. “Give up on you? No. That didn’t even cross our minds. Do not even worry about that.”
I can only nod as I fight back the relieved sobs.
“Okay, so we have a plan, and I love it,” Julia says.
“Fern, I will send you a shared doc with your itinerary on it,” Sophia says. “You’ve got a ton of events lined up, and I will add to the document every time I get a new opportunity, and there will be a lot more opportunities to come, I know it.”
“You’re going to be busy, girl!” Julia says.
“And don’t worry if you feel anxious or nervous,” Rachel says. “I will be with you every step of the way, okay? I take care of my clients.”
Is this what it’s like to have an actual support system? To be able to fall with the confidence that a whole group of people will prop you up?
“Thank you,” I say hoarsely.
“Thank you for having the courage to share your story,” Julia says. “You and your book are going to be unstoppable.”
And I find that despite everything, despite the crumbled mess of it all and the vitriol aimed at me online, despite the darkness that resides deep in my core and threatens at all times to burst through the surface and ruin everything, I believe her.
Six Months Later
My book debuts at number two on the New York Times bestseller list. I’m alone, visiting Dani’s grave, when I get the call from Julia. Rachel had offered to be with me today, but I told her this was something I needed to do on my own.
When Julia tells me the news about the NYT list, I laugh through my tears.
Unbelievable. I’m still crying when I get off the phone.
I tap on the NYT app and see that Haven’s book is number one on the fiction list. It’s not a surprise to me.
After Haven died, her parents sold her book to a different publisher.
And all the publicity I’ve been doing in the past six months has done wonders for both of us.
The nation is divided between Team Haven and Team Fern, and the ongoing controversy has created an endless stream of debates and arguments and even birthed its own spin-off drama—people have gotten into screaming fights over Haven and me.
I’ve done all sorts of talk shows live, some of them gentler, others more aggressive, and though I was intimidated at first, my publishing team assures me over and over that even the less friendly talk shows end up selling more copies of my book.
They’re still driving hard at the “You can hate her, but you can’t stop relating to her” angle, and it’s working.
I look at the NYT list, with Haven’s book at the top.
She Asked for It, by Haven M. Lee. I wait for the bitterness to come, but instead, all I feel is a sense of peace.
I have accepted that Haven will always be the queen bee.
Even in death she can’t help but outshine everyone.
And there’s something in knowing that I had a hand in it, that she couldn’t have gotten here without me.
I know that forevermore, whenever I am invited to speak at events or go on a talk show, or when I eventually write a second book, my story will always be intertwined with Haven’s.
She may be gone, but she and I will always be a part of each other’s lives.
And I can live with that. She has taught me so much, after all.
She taught me that while I am prey, I am not harmless.
She showed me that even under the thickest blankets of kindness, there can be a hidden sting.
She was the one who made me realize that my generosity, my love for baking, can be put to good use, to humble the predators around me.
It’s only when I feel the claws closing in around me that I bare my own fangs in retaliation.
And I don’t think I would’ve even known that I had fangs if not for Haven’s help.
“She always was special,” I say to Dani’s gravestone.
Around me, the cemetery is quiet, nothing breaking the stillness aside from my little hiccuping sobs. I take out a copy of my book from my bag and place it, along with a bouquet of lilies, on Dani’s grave. Plucking a single lily from the bouquet, I flip open the book to the dedication page.
“To Dani, who deserved better.”
I can never make up for what happened to Dani that night.
And though part of me would like to blame Haven for everything, I know that I’m at fault too.
That my cowardice and fear contributed to the series of events that ultimately led to Dani’s death.
And that by keeping quiet and letting everyone think that Dani had committed suicide, I was complicit in destroying the memory of her.
“I’m coming clean,” I tell Dani. I had told Rachel in advance, as our relationship deepened from agent and client to true friends over the last few months.
She said she’ll come with me to the police station to file my report, which is a kindness I don’t deserve.
I don’t know if the DA will want to press charges against me for keeping quiet all those years.
Even if the DA doesn’t, I wouldn’t be surprised if Dani’s family doesn’t end up suing me in a civil lawsuit.
And if they do, I won’t fight it. I’ll give them whatever they ask for.
As I straighten up, I reach out and gently touch Dani’s headstone. “I miss you every day,” I say. And as I walk away, I can hear her in my head, smiling and telling me, “I told you everything happens for a reason.”