“It’s called...” Kelsey’s voice shrank to a whisper. “Oh, Harper.”
She gritted her teeth, waiting for the worst of news.
“It’s calledBefore I Sleep.”
Fireworks exploded in her head. “He stole my idea!”
“Technically, Tony Bates did. He’s the producer.”
“But when I told Tony my idea, he ridiculed Miles and all things sleeping.”
“A distraction, I think. After you left, Tony put his own spin on yourpitch.The Hollywood Reportersays the story is about a man running from the ghosts of his past. Part drama. Part supernatural.”
Harper wanted to scream. “He’s turning it into a horror flick?”
“I don’t know.”
She flung open the screen door and rushed toward the acres of garden. Her story was about Miles crossing the country to find himself, not running away from the past, but the concept was still hers. She had pages upon pages to show for it. “We have to tell your dad.”
“I already did.”
“And he doesn’t care...”
“It’s a good idea, Harper. Evan will make his millions, and you’ll write an even better script for Sissie or someone else.”
“They can’t do this!”
“Did you show Tony or my dad your script?” Kelsey asked.
“No,” she moaned. “It wasn’t finished.”
“Then, sadly, they can write their own screenplay with Miles as the main character.”
“I know.” Harper had pitched her idea in good faith, and Tony made it his own. Story ideas weren’t copyrighted like an actual script. “I never should have told them my idea until the script was ready.”
And she should have asked permission to send her script when it was finished.
“I’ll make it up to you,” Kelsey said.
“It’s not your fault.” And she meant it. Kelsey had only wanted to encourage her writing. Tony was the thief. “Do you think Sissie knows?”
“Probably, but she wouldn’t be able to do anything about it.” A confidentiality agreement probably protected Tony and team.
“Is that why Sissie is giving me a chance?”
“She’s giving you a chance because she wants to make a good movie, and she sees a gold mine of potential in you.”
Maybe later that would help her feel better, but right now she still wanted to scream. “Thank you for telling me.”
“It’s only a ding, Harper.”
“More like a smash.” Catastrophic, but she didn’t want Kelsey to feel worse than she already did.
“Please don’t let this stop you from working with Sissie on your next story. She’ll do the right thing.”
When they finished, Harper flipped off her ringer and released a rather pathetic shriek. More of a yelp, really. Then she collapsed on a wooden bench in the garden. Her hands felt numb, her chest empty, her mind a frightening dull. Like she couldn’t imagine a new story if she tried.
Even during the hardest seasons of life, she’d always had her stories. Every idea had been a gift to her, the characters forming and percolating in her mind until she was ready to share them. Miles and his long walk were supposed to be hers to complete, not Tony and his need for explosives.
