Page 116 of The Tower

BELIEVE SURVIVORS

#FREETHEREEDHEIRESS

“What is this?” I whisper, unable to turn away from the spectacle.

Liam reaches for my hand, his fingers steady as they wrap around mine. “Public opinion,” he says. “Looks like someone leaked enough details to turn you into a cause. People are on your side, Princess.”

I turn to him, and his teasing smile just about melts me. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

I shake my head. “I don’t know. I guess, for … everything.”

The word hangs there, unexpected but true in so many ways.

“Yeah,” he says, his voice like a caress. “You’re welcome.”

He cups my face. “Don’t be nervous. I can’t sit with you, but I promise I am with you.”

“I know,” I say, realizing in the moment how deeply I mean it.

The car slows to a stop, and I catch sight of Ruby pushing toward us through the crowd, her auburn hair a beacon in the sea of faces. The door opens, and she’s there, reaching for me with both hands.

“Ready?” she asks, her eyes bright with a mixture of determination and concern.

“As I’ll ever be.” I grimace then slide out of the car to stand on trembling legs.

The moment I emerge, a cheer goes up from the crowd. It’s so unexpected that I freeze, my hand still in Ruby’s, my heart racing like a trapped bird in my chest. These people—these strangers—are here for me. Supporting me. Believing me.

A young woman pushes to the front, clutching what looks like a magazine. “Ms. Reed! I just wanted to say thank you. Your story gave me the courage to leave my shit of a boyfriend.”

Before I can respond, others press forward, their voices overlapping.

“We’re with you, Sasha!”

“My sister has agoraphobia, too—what your father did is criminal!”

“You deserve to be free!”

Ruby squeezes my hand, and I realize I’m crying. Silent tears tracking down my cheeks as the enormity of what’s happening washes over me. For so long, I’ve been isolated, cut off from the world by my father’s machinations. I never imagined that my story would resonate with so many, that my pain might somehow help others find their voice.

Grimm appears at my other side, his arm sliding protectively around my waist. “We need to move,” he says, his voice low in my ear. “Jack’s waiting inside.”

I nod, letting him guide me through the crowd. People reach out, touching my arm, my shoulder, offering words of encouragement as we pass. It’s overwhelming, but not in the way open spaces usually are. This feels like being carried forward on a wave of support.

As we near the courthouse steps, I spot a smaller group off to the side—men in expensive suits, a few women with impeccable blowouts and designer handbags. Their signs are different:

VICTOR REED: LOVING FATHER

THE GRIMM AGENDA EXPOSED

“Idiots,” Ruby mutters, her grip on my hand tightening. “Ignore them.”

I try, but their hostile stares bore into me as we climb the steps. One of the women calls out, “How much is Grimm paying you to lie about your own father?”

I falter, but Liam’s hand presses into the small of my back, steady and grounding. “Keep walking,” he says. “They don’t matter.”

Inside, the courthouse is a maze of marble and dark wood, the air cool and slightly musty. I spot Desmond Bane in the corridor, speaking in low tones with one of my father’s lawyers. When he sees us, he offers that predatory smile I’ve come to dread. But as the lawyer leans in to whisper something in his ear, Bane’s expression shifts. His eyes narrow, calculating, and with a curt nod in our direction, he turns and walks toward the exit.