“We?” I ask.
“Officer Hartford drove the press out of Blaire by telling them their vehicles and equipment were interfering with the telescope. Then the mayor issued checkpoints on the two entry points to the town, making sure everyone who came through the town had a permit to enter.”
“You don’t need a permit to enter Blaire,” I say. I would’ve remembered that detail.
“I know.” Hal leans in. “But they don’t know that,” he says with a smirk, breaking the scowl on his face for the first time.
“Are you telling me that the police officer…lied?”
“If he’s guilty, we all are,” he says. “Jean fashioned archival badges they used to give out at the library and put them on utility vests to make them look like official law enforcement. They even got Callie to man the barricade with that other intern—you know, Dimples.”
“Brennan?” I say.
“Yeah, that’s the one. He smiles like it’s his job.”
I laugh. Who knew Hal had a sense of humor? “I can’t believe everyone did that.” A warm feeling begins to bloom in my chest, but it never fully rises. “I caused them so much extra work.”
“They had to get all that stuff anyway. For the Blaire Fair,” he explains. “They got the permit and everything, so everyone is planning on it. But now they’re not sure people are going to show up with the way the press is saying how bad our town is.”
As hard as it is to hear how my actions ruined the Blaire Fair, Hal is reminding me that there’s something I can still do about it. Turning negative press into something positive is, after all, my specialty.
Chapter 34
Later in the afternoon, we hear a commotion outside and gather around the windows to find a media van pulling up to our house.
“Why are they back? What did you do this time?” Gavin asks. Mom and Dad stand behind him, staring at me with the same judgmental glare that I can’t say I don’t deserve. But it’s not what they think, not this time.
“I called them,” I say. “I told them to make sure to come in a diesel-run van and with wired cameras that transmit recordings through video data.”
They’re taken aback by my admission, but instead of disappointment, curiosity fills their expressions.
“But why?” Mom asks.
“It was because of me that the town was being ridiculed. I was no better than theVoguearticle. It’s why I had to call the press back. Because that’s what you do when you care about people. You show up for them when they need you, not when you need them.” I look out at the camera crew. It’s not the big horde I’m used to, and yet my fingers tremble when I go out to meet them.
The news reporter doesn’t wait for me to get close before lobbing questions at me.
“Elena, we know your success in the media has been affectedby your family’s business failure. Have you decided to give up your public image altogether? Is that why you’re hiding in this town?”
I have a lot to say about that. I’m not hiding, and I don’t care about my public image or the bankruptcy of my family’s business. Not anymore, at least.
“Thank you for coming today. The purpose of this interview is to talk about something very important to me. I want to clear up some misconceptions about this town. Blaire is a remote town that is closed off from the rest of the world, but there’s a good reason for it. The observatory here has a radio telescope that is advancing our understanding of space discovery. Due to the restrictions on radio wave interference, the town has to live in a National Radio Quiet Zone.”
I explain what all of that means. How Wi-Fi and other radio wave signals can interfere with the work they’re doing at the observatory. How the town has chosen to give up certain technologies for another technology that can serve the greater good of our population with its contributions. I end by explaining that the town’s resources prioritize the observatory and that the Blaire Fair is a way to support the town’s needs. I give all the details about when, where, and what goods will be sold. Still, the reporters try to press me for more about my personal life here, and I shut them down every time. After I say everything I want them to know, I thank them and leave.
“Do you think that worked?” Gavin asks as we watch the van drive away.
“I don’t know. But I know I did what I felt was best in the situation. And I have no regrets.”
“Elena.” Gavin hesitates. “About before. I’m sorry about being so harsh. I know you have good intentions.”
“I know. And I needed to hear it.” I nod appreciatively. “I’m sorry too. For Callie.”
His face falls as soon as I mention her name.
“I promise I’ll make it up to you.”
—
