“Yes.”
“And if Savannah stays here, photographers stay here.”
Rachel looked at me before answering.
“For a while.”
“How long?”
“Could be a day. Could be a week. Longer if there are more photographs or any public confrontation.”
“There won’t be,” I said.
Ellie’s gaze shifted to me.
“You can guarantee that?”
“No.”
“Then don’t.”
I stopped.
Rachel finished her message and put the phone down.
“If Savannah leaves, most of the attention follows her. The island may still get calls. Ellie may still be contacted. But the main story becomes where Savannah goes next.”
“I’ll leave,” I said.
Ellie closed her eyes briefly.
“What?”
“You asked what happens next. I leave. The cameras follow me.”
“You decided that quickly.”
“It’s the obvious answer.”
“To you.”
“I’m not letting photographers camp outside your work.”
“I don’t want them here either.”
“Then we agree.”
“No. You announced a decision.”
Rachel leaned against the counter.
“She has a point.”
I looked at her.
“Whose side are you on?”
“The side where you stop making decisions for other adults and calling it protection.”
