“It will be a while,” Coulson advises. “Their cloud crashed. A virus wiped out their computers. Poor Ubaldo.”
Chapter one hundred twenty-nine
Christianna
After thirty minutes the studio lights that felt warm are now blazing hot, and I hope the slight trickle I feel along my temple isn’t my makeup about to slide down my navy dress. Very demure. Very mindful. Not.
“You have been through so much. What gave you the courage to come forward?” the anchor asks, her smile warm and supportive.
My breath hitches. “It was a painful decision, as you can imagine.” She nods encouragingly, her expression steady. “The first reason was my daughter. She should never be thought of as a ‘dirty secret.’” I make air quotes. “I refused to let anyone believe she was something I would hide.”
“And what was the other reason?” she prompts gently.
“A text from someone close to me. They sent me a picture of a victim who can no longer stand for herself. The harassment drove her to end her life.” I swallow and let the emotion surface, the heartache visible.
“Thank you for being a voice for those who are unable to tell their stories. That is so important.”
“It is. I hope my coming forward lets women know that rape takes many guises. We are conditioned to take the blame. It is still rape if someone has power over you. I want the women out there watching to know it is not their fault.”
“Thank you for sharing, Christianna. It is such an important message. Coming up next is Dr. Lindsay Randolph, who will shed more light on the power-assertive rapist.”
When the camera clicks off, we both relax.
“Thank you again for coming forward and trusting us with your story,” the anchor says quietly. “Comments are already flooding in from women who didn’t realize they qualified as victims.”
Tears prick my eyes. I blink them back. “I hope it offers healing. I don’t want anyone stalled where I was. It’s a terrible place to live.”
She squeezes my hand once before I step away.
I pick my way over the wires and cables, and the moment I clear the lights, Remy is there.
He doesn’t speak. He just pulls me into him, one arm firm around my shoulders, the other cupping the back of my head. Solid. Steady.
I breathe him in.
Erik steps close, his hand sliding along my spine, anchoring me from the other side.
“You were incredible,” he murmurs, low enough that only I can hear.
Chapter one hundred thirty
Christianna
Remy hands me my phone. “Christianna,” Alexis’s voice comes through immediately.
“I’m already fielding requests for additional interviews. If you’re up for it, I can send you to another studio.”
“I thought I answered everything. I can’t talk about who, based on what the lawyers said. I don’t know what else I could offer.”
“I have a reporter I trust. They want to focus on how you healed, what that looked like for you, and where you are now.” She pauses. “It gives you a softer entry point for your relationship, and it does double duty for the opera house and the musical.”
“I don’t even have a change of clothes. What would I say?” I’m backpedaling now.
“I’m reading comments from the livestream.”
She doesn’t wait for my answer.
“Anika99 says, ‘For the first time, I think someone could believe me.’
