For so long, I thought I’d never write again. Inspiration evaded me—Sage’s betrayal snuffed my passion. But here, finally, is something new and shiny calling to me.Roaringto me. A story that demands to be told.
At the center of all this drama is a man who thought he could do anything he wanted, and knocking him down is more interesting to me than finishing Sage’s story. It was, after all, hers. Even if I agree to write for the publisher and have my name on future covers, it will have always started as Sage’s book. It was my idea, yes, but the truth is that Sagewroteit. I only ever got a few lines ofThe Last Time We Drowneddown. Sage created a whole novel. I have to admit that she did do the work, even if the idea wasn’t hers. A few months ago, I could never have conceded that. Maybe I am healing.
When this began, all I wanted was credit and the truth. I would have jumped at the chance to write the secondASOSASbook, even if it wasn’t exactly what I wanted, because it would have felt like some version of closure. Not anymore. Lingering in the pain and regret of what happened with Sage ended with her death. It doesn’t seem right to benefit from that now.
Besides, I don’t want to make it in publishing because of Sage. I want to make it because Ican. Because I have the skills and talent to get to where I want to be. And now, there’s a new story I can write to prove that.
“I’ll need your help,” I tell Ashley. “Interviewing people. Digging up dirt. Getting the inside scoop on what happened onEmpressbefore I came.”
“I can do all that and more,” Ashley says, getting to her feet and coming over to sit on the bed next to me. “The reason I came to talk to you today is because Piper left me something.” She pulls a sleeksilver USB drive from the pocket of her white joggers and shows it to me, somber now.
“What’s that?”
“I found this in my bathroom,” Ashley says. “It was sitting next to the sink. I don’t know why she picked me. Maybe because I was the only one who tried to stop her and Viv from hurting Elena. I’ve looked at it. There are hundreds of files organized in folders. All Royal Yacht employees.”
“Viv told me Piper had a thing for blackmail,” I say.
“She kept meticulous records,” Ashley agrees. Then she smiles. “There’s a file on Trey. I haven’t gone through all of it yet, but I suspect it’s a treasure trove. Evidence of cheating. Bad behavior. Screenshots. More than enough to get us started.”
I look at Ashley. “What did Trey do to you?”
“The same thing he did to everyone else,” she says. She shakes her head but puffs her chest out, steely-eyed. “I’ll tell my story. I’ll be in your book. Three people died on that boat. And not one of them was him. That doesn’t seem fair.”
“I know,” I concur. “But maybe this is why. Maybe he survived so he would have to face this. Face us.”
Ashley bares her teeth. It’s not a smile. It’s a declaration of war. “Does that mean we’re doing this?”
“Oh, yeah,” I say. “Let’s fuck him up.”
Epilogue
They never find Viv.
Sometimes I imagine she escaped. She had the life vest. Maybe she was able to get back on the tender and drive it to safety. Maybe she disappeared, escaped to Mexico when she reached shore and realized she was accused of murder.
Viv was the only person on earth who knew the truth about what I did to Sage. Maybe that’s why I keep thinking she’ll show up one day. I’m not strong enough to turn myself in. Perhaps I want someone else to do it.
But the Coast Guard eventually stops looking for her.
Ashley and I rent a house on Islamorada using Ashley’sEmpressmoney, and I email Sage’s agent back:
I’ll have to pass on the A Song of Scales and Salt series for now,but I’d like to accept your offer of representation and talk with you about something new I’m working on. I think you’ll be very interested.
He is. Within a month, we sell the book on proposal to Sage’s publisher. The advance is more money than I’ve ever seen before. Publishing knows what’s trending, and what’s trending is most definitely “Eat the Rich.”
I’m paying Ashley for her time and help and for running a new social media page that will act as promo for the book: @EmpressExposed. We already have eighty thousand followers; engagement is high, even several months after the rescue from Ligia. As I write and Ashley teases content, we expect to break the internet.
Trey will try to suppress the book when it comes out, like every billionaire does when someone writes something unflattering about them. But nothing in my book is a lie, and thanks to Piper’s USB and Ashley’s firsthand accounts, we have evidence to back up every claim. Trey won’t be able to stop us.
Ashley is easy to work with outside of the claustrophobic pressure ofEmpress. The beach house we share doesn’t have furniture or decorations yet, just the necessities, so sometimes at night I hear her quietly sniffling. She misses the people she’s lost, but we’ll visit Rachel and Fiona soon. Get their accounts for the book, if they want to share.
Rachel is teaching yoga in Miami, returning to what she loved before Viv made her cede her practice to her twin. Ashley and Rachel text all the time, but they’re taking their reintegration slow, agreeing to live apart for at least a year to see how they can grow as individuals outside of their twinship and trauma.
Fiona, on the other hand, moved to New York City. She’s pivoting to SFX makeup, apparently thriving in a class teaching artists how to do special effects and prosthesis for film and TV. Fiona’s withdrawn slightly, less communicative than Rachel, but she let us know it’s because she needs space to process. The other day she texted all three of us, saying she wants to see us soon.
We are starting to heal.
One muggy morning before dawn, I tiptoe through our new home, stepping out on the back porch with a cup of tea. Ashley is sleeping, snores loud enough to be heard from the kitchen, but I’m too energized to rest. I’ve been writing all night, and I’m nearing the end of the draft. My new agent is thrilled with what he’s read so far He texted me yesterday.
