In the hall, Kessler set up a projection screen, borrowed from Cameron’s father. On it, my video played, from multiple platforms. Thankfully without sound.

“Oh God,” I whispered.

“I’ll pause it,” Kessler said, finding me in the small crowd of McRaes. “But I want to see the reactions as they come in.”

“We all do.” Viola waved Baby G’s hand at me, and he gurgled a joyful sound.

I stepped closer and stared at the escalating numbers of reactions. Notifications sprang onto the screen, the video being shared, comments racking up.

Kessler whooped and tapped the projection. “The news agencies are picking it up. It’s going viral.”

I clutched Cameron’s hands. “I can’t watch.”

But I did. We all did.

The video appeared on all the major news sites within the hour. My fan groups took it and ran with it. Leo’s, too.

Then something else happened.

Alongside the shares, more people recorded videos in support of me. “I believe her,” was stated at the end of each. #ibelieveelise began trending.

“That’s Kayden Tell.” I goggled at a video by a huge Hollywood celebrity. “He and I worked together a couple of years ago. I figured he’d be on Derren’s side. Mainly because he’s a man.”

“He’s a human first,” Cameron said softly.

Over the hours, more followed. A flood.

Production crews who’d suffered under my mom gave up stories. Associates distanced themselves from her and Derren alike. Two women who’d dated Derren told their own stories of unpleasant behaviour. One of the camera operators who’d filmed my assault said he’d been uncomfortable with what he saw and announced he’d be talking to the police.

Cameron’s grandfather, a freaking US senator, gave his public support to me and his grandson, piggybacking my story to his belief in equality for women, something Taylor, Cameron’s mom, chuckled over and told me she’d fill me in on later.

He then called Cameron to advise him that his arrest warrant had never been real. Thank God for that.

By the time night fell, a new call had gone up: #stopthepremiere.

Yet no word came from Mom’s company. From outside the venue, people took shots of the setup underway and tagged me.

The movie was going ahead.

Then my phone rang, Janelle’s name onscreen.

“Honey,” she started. “I know we parted under nasty conditions, but you’ve got to hear this. I’m standing outside the Boulevard Theatre. I’m under contract to be here so forgive me for that. There’s a fight underway. The theatre staff have refused to work. The management is backing them. Your mother is spitting teeth.”

“Mom’s there?”

“She is, and she’s spouting the same lines about you being obstructive. Like with your security, it was all about how difficult you’d become and how we needed to contain you for your own sake. I’m so sorry. Oh, wait.” She took a rush of breath. “The cops just pulled up. Oh my good lord. They’re talking to your mother.”

I clutched the phone tighter. I had no intention of forgetting Janelle’s actions, but I’d happily use her as eyes on the scene. “Please tell me they’re arresting her.”

Janelle gasped. “They’ve put her into a cruiser.”

My laugh had everyone staring. “It’s over, right? There’s no way the movie will play now. Please tell me that.”

“I’ll find out and call you back. And for what it’s worth, I’m so sorry I believed her. She told me all these stories about your shocking antics and how we needed to bring you in line. I’ve learned a big lesson.”

After that, the house of cards fell.

Live news reported Derren’s arrest, complete with cameras capturing his outrage.

Mom’s lawyers left me endless messages asking for help or direction—a caveat I’d never heard of in our contract gave me control if she was incapacitated.

Unexpectedly, I’d been gifted the power over my life I’d always wanted. Well, if a business even existed after all the fuss died down. I replied, telling them to consider the trilogy history but, for anything else, to expect to hear from me in my own good time.

Then, at the scheduled time Huntswoman was meant to be launched on the world, confirmation finally arrived.

The originals had been seized by the police as evidence, and any copies could not be played.

Cameron’s mom brought out champagne. Celebrations turned into a party.

“You’ve won,” Cameron whispered in the midst of it all.

“I won the day I met you.”

It was true. I’d lost everything but gained far more than I could have wished. From the ashes of my former life, only good things would grow.

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