I’m jolted out of my deep focus by the first roll of thunder overhead. I stretch out my aching hand, looking around me. Hours have passed. The fire has died down to a few embers, and Crumpet has her nose stuck in my mug of cold green tea and is licking it up loudly. I scoop her away and look out of the windows.
The storm has fully hit. The sky is black and roiling with clouds, and rain is violently pelting the windowpanes. Worst of all is the wind. I can see trees being bent practically in half by the powerful gusts. Branches keep clattering loudly against the side of the house. I can hear Scout padding around Alec’s bedroom.
I shiver. Alec must have come back and started working without me noticing. I’ll give Cameron and Fraser a quick call to let them know we’re okay, and then I’ll make us both some dinner.
Alec left my phone in one of the out-of-reach cupboards in the kitchen. I have to clamber onto the counter to get it down. Holding it in my hand for the first time in two weeks feels…weird. I steel myself and switch it back on.
It immediately starts vibrating incessantly. It buzzes and buzzes and buzzes as notification after notification sweeps across my screen. Most of them are from Lulu. She must have called me over fifty times today. Her last notifications are a string of texts, sent less than an hour ago:
LULU:
SUMMER
CALL
ME
BACK
YOU
WEE
HIGHLAND
COO
Fear throbs in my stomach. Oh God. Something else must have happened. Maybe there’s been another article posted. Maybe they’re talking about me on the BBC. Maybe my inbox is flooded with death threats I didn’t even know about. I return her call, and she picks up on the first ring.
“Hey. Is everything o?—”
“Finally,”she cries. “Why have you been ignoring me?”
“Lu, I told you I was going off the grid.”
“I didn’t think you actually meant it! I thought you meant, like, you were trying to cut down your screen time or something. Who is actually,literallyoff the grid? I was worried about you, you bitch. I didn’t know you were okay.” She pauses. “Wait. Does this mean you don’t know yet?”
Oh God. “I’m fine, sorry. Has something happened?”
“What’s happened,”she says slowly, “is that I am a PR genius.”
“What?”
“I’ve fixed it all, babe. Flipped the narrative. You’re officially uncancelled.”
I can barely believe the words. I drag a chair from under the kitchen table and collapse on it. “Wait, really?”
“Check your Picturegram. Now.”
I do as she says, looking up the site on my browser. Lulu clicks her tongue impatiently.
“Well? What do you think?”
“The webpage is loading.”
“Web…page?”
“I deleted the app.”
