Chapter 10
Comments:
Emily sat in her living room, unfazed.
Growing up in this industry taught her a thing or two about thick skin. It didn’t always hold, but this time she managed not to let their gossip get to her.
Chelsea came over because she was worried. She walked the length of the room for the tenth time. “Aren’t you the least bit concerned that they’re talking about you like this?”
“Not really,” Emily stated after muting the television.
“Well, I am! We have to do something,” she panted. “Let them know it’s unacceptable even if it’s online! Damn keyboard warriors. I know you’re not the type of person, but you should really consider suing for defamation.”
Emily giggled for the first time today, leaning back. “You’ve re-enrolled into law school and you think you’ve passed the bar exam. Sure, Chels, I’ll sue the entire country for defamation.”
“Might as goddamn well!” She threw her hands up. “They’re all making you out to be the offender. All you did was show up to an event you were invited to. You didn’t do anything else, right?”
“Mm-hmm.” Emily hummed, eyes twinkling.
“Is that a yes?” She pressed.
“Mm-hmm.”
“A no?”
“Mm-hmm.”
Chelsea huffed, dropping onto the armchair opposite her. “Is this your way of showing me how much the news has scrambled your brain?”
Emily grinned. “Mm-hmm.”
“Ah, forget it!” She groaned, throwing a cushion at her.
Her phone buzzed with a message.
“Do not check that,” Chelsea warned.
“Chill. It’s just Val.”
“Oh.” She let out a breath. “How is she?”
Valentina Flores was their cousin Jason’s girlfriend, much to their dismay.
They wondered what kind of god he prayed to in order to score and keep someone like her with his terrible personality for the past two years.
She was also a fellow actress under a different company’s talent agency, Golden Media, whose name didn’t quite live up to its reputation, a joke they made a lot in passing.
Valentina
E! Just saw the news. HOW ARE YOU? Can’t believe you’re getting backlash over this. Shouldn’t they be up Stella’s ass instead? The girl confessed in 4K
Emily:
I’m alright. Nothing I’m not used to. How about yourself? Is it finally the day you tell me you’ve gotten rid of my insufferable cousin?
Valentina
Haha, no. We’re still very much together. Though he did piss me off by laughing when I talked about you.
“She’s still with Jason,” Emily finally replied to Chelsea.
“Soooo…not good.” She nodded in understanding, answering her own question from before.
Valentina
But do you want me to come over? I can make you that tres leches cake you like so much. Though I’m guessing Chelsea is probably already there…
Emily:
Yup! She is. So you don’t have to worry about keeping me company. As for the cake, I’ll hold you to it the next time I visit.
Valentina
Of course. Just wanted to let you know I’m here if you need anything.
Emily:
And I appreciate you so much for that, Val.
Valentina
Right back at ya! I’ll talk to you later!
“She wanted to come over, but I told her it’s fine,” Emily informed her sister who was waiting on another update.
“Wait, why? We could’ve had a girl’s night.”
“She’s been overwhelmed recently again by the terms of her contract. I don’t want to pile anything else on her.”
Chelsea’s expression tightened. “She hasn’t gotten lawyers involved? What her agency did was predatory.”
“I know,” Emily said with a sigh. “She knows. She’s tried to fight it, but they say she’s locked into their representation, even after mediation.
It’s either she stays with them or stop all activities until the term’s up.
They won’t let her do anything tied to her acting career unless it’s through them. ”
“That’s brutal,” Chelsea muttered. “Valentina lives for the spotlight. She actually enjoys being famous. This must feel like hell for her. It’s basically an ultimatum.”
“Tell me about it.”
Emily got up and carried her mug into the kitchen.
As she placed it into the dishwasher the doorbell rang.
“I ordered some packages. Can you get them?” Emily yelled from where she was.
Chelsea materialized immediately. “Are any of them Hermès? Ooh, maybe that Moynat bag I suggested to you?”
Emily gave her a defeated look because she was spot on—she’d ordered both.
Squealing, Chelsea rushed to get them.
In a blink, she made it back to the living room where Emily was seated again.
“Is it the Russian Blue Moynat?” Chelsea tore into the box with eager hands. “I told you it’s rare to—” A bone-chilling scream left her. The package slipped from her fingers and hit the floor with a thud.
“What?” Emily panicked, rushing to her side, knocking off her bed slippers in the process. “What is it?”
She looked down at the mess on the floor.
Was that…was that a dead rat?
It had a putrid smell coming from it.
Emily’s eyes narrowed to see a photo of herself from the charity gala the other night, her face slashed through with a red substance that looked like blood.
Her stomach dropped.
Chelsea pulled her to the side. “No, don’t look at it. Don’t touch it either. I’m calling the police.”
Ten minutes later, the police arrived. Emily sat stiffly at her coffee table. She gave her statement to the two officers, voice strong even though her hands trembled. Chelsea’s own covered them as she sat beside her.
The male officer’s tone was procedural. “Unfortunately, under New York’s stalking statutes, we need more evidence. That means more than a single anonymous package. Without fingerprints, a return address, or repeated contact, there’s nothing we can act on.”
Chelsea’s chair scraped like nails on a chalkboard as she stood. “So someone can send her threats like this and you’ll do nothing? She’s being terrorized and you’re hiding behind formalities?”
“I understand your frustration, but the statute requires intent and identity. Right now, we don’t have either to move forward.”
“What kind of bull—"
“It’s fine,” Emily touched Chelsea’s arm, trying to calm her down though her stomach curdled. The photo’s crimson streaks burned in her memory. Someone was out to get her. It brought back sickening memories. Memories she tried to get over, but it seemed she never would in this lifetime.
“No, Emmy, it’s not fine. You have a history,” Chelsea said softly then her eyes snapped to the officer, pinning him.
“She has documented reports from years ago. That history establishes intent. And under Title 18, federal law doesn’t require each incident to stand alone, it looks at patterns.
She has reasonable fear, one backed by precedent. ”
The officer shifted uncomfortably, looking up. His partner came to the rescue.
“I understand your point,” she intervened. “But we still need evidence that connects this package to a specific individual. Prior reports help with context, but they don’t replace current proof. Without something tying this act to a suspect, we simply can’t do anything.”
Chelsea’s eyes flashed. “Do you understand what you’re saying right now? You’re telling us she should wait until whomever shows up at her door again. That’s absurd! The law should protect victims before it gets that far and—”
“And I don’t disagree.” The officer adjusted her badge uncomfortably. “But our hands are tied until we can get a lead on something. We’ll file the report, but right now, it only counts as documentation.”
Chelsea threw up her hands. “Fuck this,” she cursed. “And Father and Mother wonder why I keep losing faith in law school.”
Emily squeezed her arm again. “Let it go.”
But deep down, she knew Chelsea was right.
The law probably wasn’t going to be enough to protect her from what was coming.