She will never pay for her abuse of power. Her only punishment came when she made their world inconvenient. Just as mine came when I made their world uncomfortable.
For a long time, I didn’t understand it, but I do now. The truth was never going to be my victory.
It will forever be my sentence.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
FOUR YEARS LATER
My story was never going to have a happy ending. Professor Bell was right, in the end. In war, everyone bleeds. In every story like ours, there’s a Ralston and a Bell. And we all have to choose which one we’re going to be.
My phone buzzes on the kitchen counter while I’m washing dishes. I hurry to dry my hands when I see it’s a phone call from a number I don’t recognize. I hesitate, but answer.
“Is this Lila Parks?”
I recognize her voice, though I don’t know where from. “Who is this?”
“It’s Stella Cameron.” Her voice is calm but urgent. It drags me right back to Havenport.
“Stella Cameron from the documentary?” My heart skips a beat. I’d nearly forgotten about Ralston’s documentary. It was released even after her removal from Havenport, but whatever success it might’ve had got lost in the chaos of that time.
“Yeah. Listen, I know you might not want to talk to me, but I got your phone number from my agent. I hope that’s okay.”
I prop my phone between my shoulder and ear, drying my hands further. “Sure, I guess. What’s this about?” If she asks me to give a quote for Ralston’s next documentary, I might scream.
“I’ve been following your story for a while. And I just want to say…well, I believe you. About everything. I’m sorry I didn’t before. I want to tell the real story about Dr. Ralston. The one no one’s been brave enough to tell on camera.”
A wave of ice passes to my extremities. “Why now?”
“Because it’s time, I guess. Long past time, really.”
I’m quiet, thinking. Eventually, I toss the towel down, turning to lean against the counter. “Althea Ralston has taken enough from me. There are others who need to be taken down. People worse than Ralston.”
“Then tell me those stories,” she rushes to say. “Please. I want to help you. I want to do my part, whatever that looks like.”
“Why now?” I repeat.
Her voice is soft and shaky when she finally answers. “Because I finally listened to one of the podcasts you were on. I heard what you said about Dean Carlyle.”
“It’s true?—”
“I know. You’re the…first person who has spoken truth to what I experienced with him.”
My breathing hitches. “What did you say?”
“Everything you said. I… No one talks about it. No one.”
“He hurt you? You knew him?”
“I…attended Havenport. I was one of the girls he was talking about, the ones you mentioned. He stole my girlfriend’s manuscript. When I confronted him, he assaulted me. It was the worst day of my life. I… Dr. Ralston protected me. Or I thought she did. It’s why I was so determined to do the documentary. I trusted her. Ilovedher. But then I heard what you said. Is it true? That she was involved? That she knew what he was?”
“Yes.” I can barely utter the syllable, still processing.
“Then I want to expose them all. I’m ready. I’m sorry it’s taken this long.”
I listen—hope, fear, and rage tangled in my chest like the vines on Havenport’s stone walls.
“I know you have no reason to trust me, but?—”
