Page 25 of The Exit Strategy
Group chats are bad. Private messages are worse. Glancing around the conference table, I listen for any signs of life. Cole’s been so quiet, I wonder if he fell asleep at his desk.
It would serve him right.
Fen: Hey, don’t freak out.
Great opener. Very calming.
Junie: What?
Fen: Grace’s account was picked up by the Scout Report. They ran a piece called The Other Side of Sorry.
My stomach drops to my ankles.
Fen: They didn’t use your name, but they used your photo. The window video is embedded. Grace did an interview.
Junie: She did WHAT?
Fen: Hudson already sent a takedown notice for the photo. But there’s more.
She’s still profiting from the misery she created.
Fen: They also called my office asking where you are. Someone, likely Mr. Fissile, tipped them off that you haven’t been seen and might have left town. They don’t have a location yet.
I read that line three times.
They don’t have a location yet.
Yet.
Junie: What did you tell them?
Fen: I’m a PR professional, Junie. I told them nothing and implied they’d be hearing from our legal team, which is just Hudson in a bad mood, but they don’t know that.
Fen: I’m staying at your house so it looks like someone’s home now.
Fen: Stay OFF socials. Don’t post anything with a location. And maybe tell Cole to make sure nobody at the compound is live streaming you—or the Safe Haven check-in committee again either. I’ve already had to scrub those.
Outside, Stanley is currently making his third lap of the block with a GoPro his grandson gifted him mounted to his golf cart.
They might be a problem.
Junie: I’ll handle it.
Fen: Handle it like a normal person or handle it like Spite-Berry? Remember, that’s an important distinction right now.
Junie: Goodbye, Fenway.
Fen: Never mind. I texted Cole. Let him handle The Havens.
I drop my phone face down and then press my palms into my eyes until I see stars.
Grace is doing interviews. She knew the audience would fall for her.
And now her fame-chasing is actively attacking me because my pain has a shelf life and the world is ready for their next installment.
I came here to disappear. To do the work, to earn money, to figure out who I am when the Internet stops watching.
That’s the real problem here. I don’t know who I am or who I want to be—and I’ve always had a plan. Plans are safe. Plans give me purpose. Purpose keeps me out of trouble. Purpose keeps me safe.
