Page 73 of Promise Me Never

Poppy blew out a breath. “We have to stop this. I feel like I’m fifteen again. Millie, don’t you want to know what happened that night?”

“It’s Savannah now.”

“Fine. Savannah. Don’t you want the truth?”

Savannah shrugged. “I’m sure you’re going to tell me. But Bennett already gave me the details. You got wasted and fell off the boat.”

“No. That’s not what happened. I didn’t fall. I was pushed.”

| Seventy-Five |

Before—Poppy

Bennett was at the helm of the boat steering as we flew over the water. I walked up to the flybridge and stood next to him. I had printed everything out ahead of time and the papers were in the tote I was holding. The sun was going down, and the sky a beautiful pink. I wished I could enjoy it. He put an arm around me and pulled me close to him. The conversation I was about to have would either allay all my concerns or end my marriage.

“I have to ask you something,” I said.

“What is it?

“Are you writing a story about artificial intelligence?”

His brow creased. “No. Why?”

I pulled out the paper I had printed and begin to read. “Write a novel of 100,000 words copying the voice and storyline but different enough that I can’t be accused of plagiarism. Change the character names and setting, but keep the major twists intact, especially the ones the book was lauded for.”

His face turned white. “How did you get that?”

“That’s your question?”

“Poppy, you don’t understand. Things have changed in publishing. The two after Promise Me Never weren’t selling well enough. I only did what plenty of authors do.”

I shook my head. “No. You didn’t use it to edit or for research. You asked AI to copy a book written by another author and change it just enough so you couldn’t be sued. That’s what your prompt said. You used AI to write Ghosts Don’t Dream? No wonder it read familiar to me. You stole another author’s work!”

“It’s different enough. I didn’t steal anything. All I did was use technology that’s available to everybody. Everyone does it. It’s just another tool at our disposal, and you either adapt and use technology, or you get left behind. It’s no different than any other online editing tool.”

I was disgusted. How could he believe that? As an artist, what is more sacred than originality? “But you didn’t use it to edit. You didn’t write the story!”

His jaw tightened. “You’re blowing this way out of proportion.”

“Really? I can’t wait to hear what your publisher has to say about this.”

His eyes were practically popping out of his head. “Are you crazy? You can’t tell them. I’ll be ruined.”

I scoffed. “You should be. And I’ll bet that author you stole from would be happy to accept the royalties you raked in.” I thrust the paper at him. “Here’s all the proof they’ll need. It’s so blatant. Why, Bennett? For the money?”

“Please, Poppy. Try to understand. It was a onetime thing. I won’t do it again.”

“I don’t believe you. I hoped you were going to explain that this was some sort of piece on the abuse of AI. Not that you were using it for plagiarism. I can’t even look at you. You disgust me. I’m leaving you. You’re not who I thought you were.”

He took a step toward me. A shiver ran through me. “You can’t be serious,” he said, voice low.

Could he be that clueless? “Bennett, integrity is everything to me. I worked day and night to support myself so I could pursue my art. That’s what matters. I thought we had that in common. But you’re not an artist. You’re a cheater and a thief. I can’t be with you. And I’m telling you now, come clean with your publisher. If you don’t, I will.”

“Why would you ruin me? Do you know what will happen if you do that? My career, my reputation? It will all be gone.”

I shook my head. “You should have thought about that before you decided to steal other people’s ideas.”

“But—”