What I discovered along this journey was that the romance book community is a strong one. Under the banner of our fake Tia accounts we had a lot of messages from Bookstagrammers supporting Harper. And reaching out to Tia too, making sure she felt supported, even though Tia was a figment of our imaginations and a product of AI.
I can only apologise for my own actions. I’ve done so much damage to Harper, and the romance reader community. It was supposed to be a prank, a social experiment, to show how easily the publishing industry could be manipulated. It didn’t take long for the jig to be up, but by then I’d realised not only had I ruined Harper’s life but that I’d also done the wrong thing by so many readers who only wanted to support a debut author. The reason the book did so well was that the romance community came to together, excited about a new voice. Even though it wasn’t a new voice. It was AI. A culmination of voices that aren’t real. I’m so sorry for all the hurt I’ve caused, and will forever regret my part in it. Especially involving Harper, who truly loves the book world. The romance community is strong, and that divide between protecting their authors and protecting their Bookstagrammers isn’t actually a divide at all. It’s their inherent kindness in making sure that everyone is being heard, being supported and not being bullied. The only bullies in this situation are us, the gamers who thought we could outsmart a community that is tougher than we imagined. And so, once more to Harper, I apologise. Your community is waiting for you, and I hope that I haven’t taken that away from you forever.
Mai Zhou.
50
ONE YEAR LATER
‘We are gathered here today to celebrate the wedding of…’
‘Wait, wait! The three Lucys are on their way, two minutes tops!’ Doris calls out and resumes her position in the bridal party.
I take a moment to compose myself. I’m already crying and the happy couple haven’t even said their vows yet. Xavier squeezes my hand and passes me another tissue. My mascara is probably running in rivulets down my face, but it can’t helped. Some love stories happen fast, like they did for Xavier and me, that instant spark, a strange recognition when your soul recognises its mate. Others take a lifetime before the stars align.
Like our bride and groom today. The timing was never right. They’d been entangled elsewhere until one day, across a crowded Cabana Bar, she stopped and gazed into his eyes and read the longing in them, the love that he’d kept in his heart but never let slip from his mouth for decades.
And now here they stand, hands clasped on the beach in front of the Cabana Bar where they met forty-seven years ago when she had big dreams for this patch of paradise and he had a safe place to call home.
‘Brian and Sarah.’
‘Your mum’s name is Sarah?’ I whisper to Xavier. I’m so used to everyone calling her Mrs Bastille, Xavier’s dad’s surname that she never let go of, despite other marriages.
He laughs. ‘Yes. Do you think she’ll take his surname?’ It means a lot to Xavier to have that connection with his dad still and that his mum always honoured that by keeping it.
‘Who knows, in this day and age, he might take hers.’
‘Brian Bastille, has a nice ring to it.’
‘Would it bother you, if he did?’
‘Not at all. Brian’s a great guy. Really helped me.’
My heart melts. ‘Did he teach you how to ride your first bike? How to kick a ball? Play catch?’
Xavier frowns. ‘No, he gave me some devil’s claw for my back pain and I haven’t had a twinge since.’
‘Devil’s claw? Isn’t that illegal?’ I recall those suspicious packages Brian wanted to get picked up and dropped off at the bookshop. Honestly, I’m shocked that Xavier would take some illegal black-market drug!
‘Illegal, no. It’s a herbal supplement. He’s a distributor for one of the most trusted ayurvedic companies on Mahé. Does a roaring trade because of how scarce the products are.’
I scoff. ‘Next you’ll be telling me you got a great crypto tip from him.’
‘I did! I’m close to making enough to buy back the investors’ share of the Last Chance Resort. That’s all thanks to Brian. He only shares his intel with a select few.’
As usual, I don’t know who to trust on this island, an island where tall tales all seem to have a gleam of truth. ‘Really?’
‘Really.’
I hold in laughter. ‘And I suppose Doris’s husband died when the boat capsized and he got eaten by a black-tipped reef shark?’ The stories get more outlandish the longer I’m here, but this one they’ve stuck to and it’s rather frustrating because I’d like to know what really happened.
‘No, of course not!’
‘What a relief.’
‘It was a white-tipped reef shark and it didn’t happen around here, I might add. But no one was all that sad because he was a bad guy. A sausage factory would have been too good an end for him if you get my drift.’
So everything they’ve all said has been true – the herbal supplements, the crypto, Gus and his speedboat escape; everything? ‘Ooh. How did the boat capsize?’
