Page 46

Three Years Later

There’s a groaning sound as the doors slide open. The officers on either side of me seem bored. This is just another day for them.

The sun slices in. The parking lot shimmers before me, like it’s still deciding whether or not to materialize. It’s summer, and the late-morning air has a humid scent that promises full-on mugginess later on.

My friend Nate is picking me up– the first of our friendship group to find Daniel’s podcast all those years ago.

Somehow, this makes him a fitting bookend to my time here.

A four-hour drive from Cincinnati to the state penitentiary in Youngstown was a big ask, but hey– you only get picked up from prison once. Right?

I’m in the same leggings and T-shirt they booked me in, minus the scrubs. They hang a little loose; I’ve lost some weight. Not on purpose; prison food sucks. I’ve been dreaming of a nice, thick butter burger drenched in cheddar. Poké bowls piled high with fresh fish. Fried pickles.

R he was right.

I, of course, denied everything– except for unplugging Jessica. That, I was happy to own.

Still, it wasn’t looking so good for me until they brought Serena up to testify.

‘She saved my life,’ Serena said. ‘I know what happened.’

During cross-examination, the prosecution really went to town on her, but she stubbornly insisted on her version of the story, over and over. I was drunk. I went for a swim. Lily saved my life. I remember that as the moment the tide of the trial turned in my favour.

Whether she legitimately believed it or was simply being strategic since she knew that I had one on her– the CleanSlim she’d given to Skylar that led to the girl’s hospitalization– I’ll never know. But I suspect that more than a little self-interest was at work there, too.

In the end, there simply wasn’t enough evidence for the deaths of years past to nail me, and between Serena’s surprise testimony and a few others– Vic, who was all too eager to defend his hotel and me as an extension of it; Kenton, who gave an emotional account of the way I’d saved Mr Tulaine; Brianna, who called me ‘the sweetest person in the whole place’; and even Carli Elle herself– they cleared me of all charges for the Riovan deaths.

They only convicted me for Jess. Five years for Manslaughter by Non-Voluntary Passive Euthanasia.

Good behaviour brought that down to three.

Three years during which I did a lot of dishes, even more laundry, and read my way through the prison library, including a dozen more books on my list of one hundred.

Though I never did finish Crime and Punishment .

I spent a lot of time in the prison graveyard, too.

Mom died here; no one came to collect her body. She has a small headstone.

‘You brought the Riovan down after all,’ I say to Daniel, which is as close to a thank you as he’s going to get, considering.

After I set Jessica free, Daniel extended the season by three more episodes and told my whole story, starting with my childhood and my mom’s conviction, moving through my love story with Jessica and her subsequent struggles.

He interviewed friends, family, coworkers, and brought it all to life.

Then, in the real season finale, he exposed the Riovan’s ugly underbelly, from the contracts with questionable supplement companies to the fast-and-loose pharmacy to the destructive tactics used by staff to ‘motivate’ guests.

The story spread like wildfire. People started coming forward with claims of abuse by the staff, lawsuits rained down, and the hotel folded within the year.

Maybe one day I’ll show Daniel the letters I’ve received in prison because of his podcast; letters from women recovering from eating disorders, and their families, sharing their stories because they felt a connection with mine.

A few of those letters included article clippings about other resorts where people had spoken out and made changes, because Jess and my story gave them the courage to do so.

I read about how the hashtag #ChangeforJess went viral, inspiring people to rethink the overall culture, imagery and language around wellness in gyms, schools, workplaces.

I can’t say I’m proud of all that, since it was other people rallying, speaking up, making change. What I can say is that it felt like a gift– strange and unearned– that somehow, after everything, people cared.

‘Yeah,’ Daniel says, his voice gruff. Raw. ‘I’d do it all again.’

I shield my eyes, trying to make out his eyes behind his sunglasses. ‘So would I.’

I wait to see if he’s upset by this. But his expression doesn’t change.

‘So you’re driving me back to Cincinnati?’ I say.

‘Is that where you want to go?’

I don’t answer for a moment.

‘It’s where I’d been planning to go. I need to officially sell Taste of Heaven to Lisa. Sign the paperwork.’

‘You know, there’s this thing called Docusign…’

OK, smartass.

‘Well, where are you going?’ I say.

‘Chicago. I have a lead on a story that might become Season Six.’

I tilt my head. ‘I mean, I’ve always liked deep dish pizza…’

‘They have good Italian beef there, too. Just saying.’

OK, now I’m salivating. I clutch my purse strap. ‘All I have with me are the clothes on my back.’

‘Pretty sure there’s a Target in Chicago.’

‘And what? I just… follow you around while you do your thing? See the sights?’

He shifts his weight. ‘Actually, I’ve been looking for a co-host. For the podcast.’

What?

It takes the surprise a few seconds to move through my body.

‘OK,’ I say slowly. ‘You want me to co-host the true crime podcast that tried to pin six murders on me?’

‘Well… five. And one attempted.’

‘Are you nuts?’

‘You’re smart. Passionate. Witty. You care about justice.’

‘I think we come at justice from slightly different angles.’

His grin blooms slowly. ‘Is that a problem?’

We regard each other. There’s so much I don’t know. Where I’m going to sleep tonight, for example. Or, you know, what I’m going to do with my life.

But none of that seems as relevant right now as the question standing before me, muscled and confident and simmering with quiet energy.

‘What about us?’ I say softly, because I can’t ask, Are you still in love with me? Not out loud. Three years and a prison sentence stand between then and now, and I can’t assume anything.

‘That’s what I came here to find out,’ he says.

I reach forward and gently push up his sunglasses so I can see his eyes. I look at him, and let him look at me.

Ooooh, shit. I remember this. The power of his gaze as it delves into me.

It’s the gaze of someone who knows me.

Not everything, of course.

But the most important things. What I’ve done and why. And somehow…

He’s not scared.

I lower his glasses. Nod slowly.

Then, I walk over to the passenger side of his fancy car and get in. It’s hot and smells like new car inside. He climbs in too, and we close our doors in tandem, like we’ve been doing it that way for ever.

‘Where is this going, Daniel?’ I say, briefly brushing his hand as he reaches for the gear shift. I can practically feel the electric zap as my skin meets his.

His gaze pierces me from the driver’s seat. ‘Only one way to find out.’

My heart thunders, but it’s not adrenaline powering it this time, or fear. It’s hope.

I was lucky to get one great life with Jessica.

And I’m starting to think that maybe, just maybe, I’ll be lucky enough to have two.

The car roars to life.

‘Ready?’ Daniel says with that wolfish grin, and I don’t answer him with words, but with my eyes, I send, What are you waiting for?

He sends back, You.

I send back, I’m here. I’m ready.

And we go.