“Jesus.” Ethan shook his head. “No wonder he’s going to put out a statement. There’s probably more evidence if anyone digs for it.”
Anger started to build inside me. “I hate this. And what if he kind of buries it? He’s probably not going to want anyone to even notice.”
Ethan grimaced. “Honestly, a big announcement would look good for him. Admitting and correcting a mistake like this? He’ll look sympathetic and progressive.”
Fury curdled inside me. Of course he would. No consequences for being condescending or keeping this hidden. “It’s not fair.”
“Let’s beat him to the punch,” Ethan said.
“What do you mean?”
“Let’s put out something first. Why let him get the credit when you figured this out?”
For possibly the first time in my life, I considerednotbeing impulsive. “Gibson might get mad if we say something before his official statement.”
“What’s he gonna do?” Ethan said with all the cavalierness of a rich white boy. “We’ve all agreed this should be public.”
I thought about it. Maybe whatever we posted wouldn’t make a splash, either. Probably it’d fly under the radar. But when I thought about this pattern repeating over and over, of women discovering things and men getting credit, I thought, well, screw that. Ihadfigured this out. I wanted my name on this.
“Let’s go, then,” I said. “Let’s break this story wide open.”
***
Ethan and I spent the next few days making a video.
Or, technically, the triplets did. I wrote the script, but as soon as the triplets caught wind of what Ethan and I were doing, they wanted in.
“You need to make an impact,” Iris said seriously. “You need to construct a narrative.”
“We’ll start with your arrival on Nantucket,” Rose said, already making notes all over the handwritten pages I’d cobbled together.
“But it needs to be short,” Iris said. “People don’t have long attention spans. Under three minutes.”
“Do you think we can shoehorn the romance in?” Lily pursed her lips thoughtfully. “People love a romance.”
“What?” I flicked my gaze toward Ethan, who bit back a smile. “We’re not going to shoehorn a romance in.”
“Mm,” Lily said, nodding slowly. “You’re right. Nothing explicit, just enough to make viewers ship you.”
“Ethan can touch her hand at one point,” Rose said, still busy scribbling. “And she can bump his shoulder.”
Truly, these girls were terrifying.
“We’re going to need some establishing shots of you at Dr. Bradley’s office,” Iris said. “We need to make you look smart so people will take you seriously. Maybe wear a college sweatshirt. Does Dr. Bradley have any Harvard-branded stuff in her office? Or lots of books?”
“I’ll do costuming and set design,” Lily said. “I know you usually wear contacts, but wear your glasses for this. And no offense, but we’re going to tone down your eyeliner.”
I would have been offended if I hadn’t been so mystified by the way the triplets took over.
“Only Shira can control them,” Ethan murmured to me. “The rest of us don’t even try.”
“I’m truly astonished.”
“Last Hanukkah they made us all do a play. Memorizing lines and making swords out of carboard and tinfoil. They’re like a hurricane. A hurricane of triplets, that’s probably their collective noun.”
It took two days to shoot the video and another two to edit it under the exacting eye of Iris. I did exactly what the triplets asked, except for wearing a college sweatshirt. Instead, I wore my favorite black romper and bright red lipstick. But I answered the questions Rose asked and stood where Iris and Lily placed me. This included a gratuitous number of shots where I looked through the telescope on the roof walk or walked along the beach or gazed at the sky.
But by less than a week after Ethan and I had met with Mr. Gibson, the video was done, at two minutes and forty-seven seconds. We sent it first to Andrea’s descendants, who enthusiastically signed off. Then, summoning all my nerve, I asked Dad and Cora if they’d like to see it.
