Chapter Seventy-Seven Savannah
| Seventy-Seven |
Savannah
Savannah looked around at the house that had been her home for such a short amount of time.
She and Poppy were packing up Bennett’s office.
Poppy had come up with the idea to turn the house into a rental space for writer retreats.
Felicia had been more than delighted with the plan.
Writers from all over would flock to come and write in the house of the great Bennett Bryson, and Felicia would cook for them.
She’d still have a purpose. Of course, they would have no idea what a fraud he had been.
Savannah still couldn’t get over the fact that he had used AI to write his last two books all the while criticizing her writing.
It made her blood boil. He’d been condescending and insufferable.
Pretending to mourn her sister when he had tried to kill her.
She was glad that Poppy would inherit all his assets.
After everything she’d been through, she deserved that and more. Especially for little Millie.
Felicia walked in holding the baby. She was besotted with her. When the baby spotted Savannah, she held her arms out. From the first moment Savannah had met her niece, it was love at first sight. And the child returned that love in equal measure.
Savannah took her from Felicia and kissed her cheek. “Hello, beautiful. What are you two up to?”
Felicia smiled at her, a warm smile that reached her eyes. “I’m going to take her down to the pond to see the ducks. She loves them just like her Mommy.”
After Felicia and Millie left, Savannah turned to Poppy. “I can’t take it. She’s so darn adorable!”
Poppy smiled. “She is that. Okay, let’s get this finished so we can get out of here.” She turned on the computer.
“It’s password protected,” Savannah said.
“I have a feeling I know what the password is.” Poppy put her hands on the keyboard and typed. The screen populated with all of Bennett’s icons.
Savannah had to know. “What was it?”
Poppy gave her a sheepish look. “Poppyseed. His nickname for me.”
Savannah’s breath caught. He had still been carrying a torch for her sister. Despite everything she knew about him now, it still hurt. Get over it, she chastised herself. “Go to a browser and pull up ChatGPT.”
Poppy typed some more. “Nothing in his history. He must have erased it after I confronted him. I’d love to make what he did public.”
Savannah shook her head. “I think it’s best to let sleeping dogs lie. He paid the ultimate price anyway. He’s gone. A stain on his reputation would affect both of us as well. I think we’ve been through enough, don’t you?”
“I guess you’re right. He was a master at playing a part. I really believed that he loved me. But he was willing to kill me in order to protect his reputation. I may not be able to prove he was a plagiarist, but I can sure as hell prove he was a killer. I’m going to the press with my story.”
“I don’t blame you,” Savannah said. She was looking over Poppy’s shoulder.
Her brow furrowed as she saw a folder labeled Next Book. “Can I sit there a minute?”
Poppy vacated the seat and Savannah plopped down. She clicked the folder and a Word document opened. As Savannah scanned the screen, her disbelief turned into outrage. “That son of a bitch!”
“What?”
“His next book was going to be my book! The one he told me to shelve because it was too clichéd!”
“Are you serious?”
Savannah kept reading, then looked up at her sister. “He changed the names but it’s the same story about a woman vigilante. How the hell did he think he was going to explain this to me when it came out?”
They locked eyes. “Maybe he didn’t plan for you to still be around,” Poppy said.