Chapter 82
“Wait.” Tessa grabbed Emily’s arm.
Emily turned, curious. “What?”
“Two things. Quickly.” Tessa steeled herself. Had to ask. “Did you ever tell anyone about—the bad thing?”
Emily’s eyes widened. “Of course not. I promised . Why?”
“I’ll tell you. But first.” Tessa took her phone from her blazer pocket. Opened her photos. Selected one. Held it out. “Do you know who this is? These people in the photograph?”
“Where did you get that?”
“So you do recognize them. Truly, it’s important. Who is this?”
“Well, yes, okay, I’ve seen that photo before. At our house. That’s my stepmother as a child. And her father, he died, gosh, I forget what she said. That’s their cabin. On Acadia Road. Back in Maine.”
“Your stepmother’s family?”
Emily nodded. “Where did you get it, though, Tessa?”
“Where’s your stepmother now?”
“No idea. And I hope I never know. She was a sleaze, forgive me, all she wanted was money. She and my father.” Emily shook her head. “Quite the team. I couldn’t get away fast enough. She’s probably out ruining someone else’s life now.”
“You’d know her if you saw her?”
“Sadly, I have no doubt. There are never enough years to wipe that face away. I wish there were.”
“Tessa!” Vivian called out from across the room. More people had gathered outside the window. “Time!”
“Em. Can you do me a huge favor?”
“Sure. But you have to tell me—”
“I will. But go back behind those bookshelves.” Tessa pointed. “Behind me. Kind of… hide. And then, when they let the audience in, see if there’s anyone you recognize.”
“Why? Who? Hide?”
“Can you trust me? After all these years? I’m so sorry to be vague, but as it turned out, you’re about the only one I can trust.”
“What’s wrong?” Emily whispered, now leaning closer.
“I’ll tell you. I promise.” Tessa was deciding even as she said it. “But for now, just see what you see.”
“Tessa! Now .” Vivian and Rebecca, a tag team, each took one of Tessa’s arms, and led her toward the chair. The makeup person, brandishing a puffy brush, dabbed it across Tessa’s nose and cheeks as Rebecca clipped a microphone to her black blazer.
“We’re keeping the people outside,” Rebecca said. “New York decided they don’t want noise.”
“But they can come in after,” Vivian said. “We’ll have a signing. And the videographer will shoot them, too, so they’ll be on TV. I’m headed out to tell them. Lucky it’s a nice day.”
“Ten minutes,” Rebecca said. “Here’s your earpiece. Tuck it in your ear, let’s run the wire down the back of your jacket, to the power pack… good.” She clicked a button on her own black box. “New York, are you hearing us?” She nodded. “Test Ms. Calloway, okay?”
“One, two, three, can you hear me?”
The voice came in Tessa’s ear. She clapped a hand to her earpiece, startled. “I hear you.”
“Tessa.” A different voice in her ear. “This is Abigail Adams in the studio. I know, the name was my parents’ idea, they thought it was aspirational.
But you call me Abby. I adored your book, and cannot wait to chat with you about it.
Four minutes, tops. I’ll ask you some easy-peasy questions.
Our viewers already love you. Your one life.
And Annabelle. Do you mind that we’re keeping the audience out? Sometimes they get noisy.”
“I’m so honored. Whatever works,” Tessa said. “I’m a massive fan.”
Vivian had gone outside, Tessa saw, and was speaking, pointing to the camera, must be explaining to the crowd about the network’s change of plans.
“Back at you, Tessa,” Abby was saying. “I wish you were here, but we’ll do that next time. So I know they told you, but look right into the camera, pretend it’s me, we’ll have fun. Talk to you in a few.”
“Three minutes.” Another voice in her ear.
“Three minutes,” Rebecca said. “We’re in a commercial break now, you’ll hear Abigail on the air introduce you.
Just answer her as if she were here. You don’t have to hold up your book, we have a graphic for that.
I’ll cue you, too. And when I do this”—she spiraled a forefinger—“wrap it up. You don’t have to panic.
Finish your thought. And Abigail will thank you and say goodbye. ”
Tessa nodded, pretending to be calm. “Got it.”
Rebecca made a thumbs-up to the camera lens, then positioned herself beside the videographer.
Tessa twisted around to tell Emily about the change in the audience, but she’d disappeared. She had to forget about that now.
Outside, Vivian was talking with someone as the crowd adjusted position.
Henry, Tessa realized, as he turned to face her, and the tops of Zack’s and Linny’s heads bobbed above the bookstore’s low window displays.
Next to Henry, a honey-haired woman with a sleek pageboy, and next to her, a bespectacled boy.
Tris, Tessa thought. And Nellie Delaney.
She closed her eyes, briefly, blocking it all out. This was almost too much for one person. She’d read about something called Dalton’s Law, which stated that individual pressures added together into one big pressure. Right now, she was the epitome of Dalton’s Law. Pressure from all sides.
From her family. From her publisher. From her readers. And from her blackmailer.
And now from the arrival of Emily.
Who’d—finally—brought her the truth.