My eyes snapped open—it had been a dream, but the ringing phone was real.Ugh.I’d passed out on the couch, and my phone was all the way over on the kitchen table.
Getting up from a sitting or lying position was getting harder and harder these days, and my bladder refused to be ignored. By the time I finally reached my phone, a voicemail was waiting for me—it was from Sam at the office. It was short.
“Savannah, uh …” He sighed. “Listen, um … check your email. I’m so sorry. I hope you’re doing okay.”
Dread flooded my body, and a vein above my right eye throbbed. With shaking hands, I logged into my work email on my phone. At the top of my inbox was an email from Meredith entitled, simply, “Employment Status.” The vein pulsed more quickly.
From: Meredith Blackwell
Date: Friday, October 17, 2025 9:17 A.M.
Subject: Employment Status
Savannah,
Unfortunately, we at the Blackwell Agency have concluded that the best course of action for the company at this time is to terminate your employment with us, in accordance with the morality clause in your contract. Your final paycheck will be direct-deposited into your bank account by the end of business today. We wish you the best of luck in your future endeavors.
Sincerely,
Meredith Blackwell
President, The Blackwell Agency
Tears blurred my vision. I sat back down on my couch and cradled my face in my hands.My future endeavors? The only thing I’m endeavoring to do is to stay out of prison and be allowed to raise my child in peace! Is that too much to ask?
My phone rang again—this time, my mother’s smiling face lit up the screen. With tears streaming down my face, I answered, voice trembling.
“Hi, Mom.” Emotions were taking over. Breaths started coming faster and stronger, and soon I couldn’t speak as my entire body shook with violent, primal sobs.
“Oh, sweetie,” my mom crooned, an audible catch to her voice as well. “You don’t deserve this. I’m so sorry all of this is happening.”
“I … wish … I … want …” My hopes, dreams, and fears slipped right off my tongue, swept away by my tears. There were so many things I wanted—and yet, they were so simple, so basic.I just wanted me and my child to be free from all this madness, and be allowed to live in love and peace. If I could just have that, I was prepared to swear to God and anyone else who would listen that I would never ask for anything again.
Mom stayed silent for a moment, just listening to me cry. Eventually, her gentleshh shhguided me to take deep breaths. It took several minutes, but my breathing finally returned to normal. I sopped up my wet tears and blew my nose. She asked if there was any further news about my case. I told her about Alex, my public defender, and that my arraignment had been scheduled for Monday morning.
“Well, that’s good, I guess. That means we can still have the baby shower Sunday, and celebrate you, and have something positive to look forward to. And I’ll stay with you at your apartment so I can go with you to court the next morning.”
“Thank you, Mom. I love you.”
“I just need to pack a few more things, but I’ll be on the road in the next fifteen minutes, hon.”
“Thanks so much, Mom … I really appreciate it.”
“Of course, Savannah. You know I love you.”
I switched on the TV. Some mindless reality show would help take my mind off everything.
At some point I must have drifted off again. I awoke with a start and picked up my phone—it had been two hours. Where was my mom? She should have arrived by now. Had she hit traffic on her way into the city?
One text was waiting for me—Alex Hirsch, letting me know he was on his way to pick up footage from my office building’s parking garage. My heart squeezed with painful hope. I really needed him to find something helpful.
I dialed my mom, but after a few rings, her voicemail picked up.She’s probably just stuck in traffic.And she never answered her phone while driving.
Feeling fidgety, I swiped open a social media notification—an unfamiliar face had popped into my message request folder. The name Sarah Morehouse didn’t ring a bell. Probably more Madison-prompted hate mail, but I clicked anyway.
Savannah, you don’t know me. My family has been friends with the Clark family for years. Madison and I grew up together. I was at the baby shower and thought I should reach out to you. You probably already know that Madison’s mom contacted the police after Madison was injured. The police contacted me this morning to question me since I was at the shower. I told them that I wasn’t sure what happened, because the two of you were in a different room alone when Madison was hurt. I was just being honest, but later, Nora Clark called and basically screamed at me for like five minutes straight. She accused me of betrayingMadison, all because I wasn’t willing to lie and say I’d seen you push her. Anyway, I wanted to let you know she’s pissed, and to watch out. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that the Clarks are relentless. I doubt they will give up easily.
Why am I not surprised?I quickly took a screenshot of the message and texted it to Alex Hirsch, with a short message:Hopefully this helps???
