But it wasn’t easy. It was slow. Only a sentence or two each month for almost a year.
But after my mother died I spiraled into a deep depression and the words came easier. Poured out of me like they were spilling out of the same dam. Like I knew I was free. Which makes me sick to think about, but still, it’s the truth. And it must be faced.
And at the end of all that I wrote a book.
Hayes is the one who took it to an agent. Set up a shell corporation and they shopped it, made a deal and eighteen months later it debuted at number three on the New York Times.
He lied to me. Manipulated me.
And I love him for it now. Because without Hayes we’d still think that nightmare was real.
The truth must be faced eventually. It always finds a way.
Hayes thought he could publish my new book and draw them out without involving the rest of us. Make them see that we held the power. But Connor stumbled onto the book at the airport and his plan came apart.
It’s humbled him. It’s made Hayes cautious for the first time in his life. Allowed him to see that he is also fallible. That he is also human. But even though I don’t blame Hayes for Camille and Bennett—and neither do Sofia and Connor—I think it’s a good change for him.
It’s good to know your weaknesses. It’s important to understand how one decision can cause events to spiral into something you no longer control. Especially for people like Hayes, who carry the weight of unimaginable riches and power on their shoulders.
We have drifted apart these last few months, but in a good way. Paired up into something normal and safe. Sofia and Hayes. Connor and me.
We left The Dirty Ones behind and maybe I don’t really know who we are now, but I know who we aren’t.
And that’s enough.
Someone, probably Connor’s father, actually had the gall to submit his candidacy paperwork. The entire state of New York still thinks he’s running for US Senator. He’s got a huge lead in the polls and it hurts Connor, I can tell. To see that happen. Because he knows his father is out on bail waiting for trial, just watching those numbers climb, smug with the realization that all his plotting and planning paid off.
Connor pretends it’s not happening. We’ve been in Vermont since the day of his father’s arrest. He found the will in my attic and has hired a lawyer to sort it out.
The house will be mine. Essex College was implicated in the deceit—that’s what they’re calling it in public. Deceit. As if that guy Connor’s mother was with ten years ago didn’t get killed. As if I didn’t take a bullet in my shoulder. As if Emily wasn’t locked up in a mental institution for an entire decade. The dean was arrested and is also awaiting trial.
The college is not fighting the lawsuit Connor filed.
Oh, yeah. I think people forgot Connor was a lawyer.
Well, everyone remembers now.
The delusional notebook I wrote back in senior year is evidence, but I have been assured that it will be returned to me.
What a fantastic work of fiction that will be.
I can’t wait to burn it.
Meanwhile, The Dirty Ones has been on the New York Times bestseller list for almost six months. It’s got my name on the cover now. And Connor’s. And Hayes’. And Sofia’s. And Bennett’s. And Emily’s. And Camille’s.
Because we are the Dirty Ones and this is no story.
It’s the truth.
EPILOGUE – CONNOR
FIVE YEARS LATER
The long plowed driveway leading up to the cottage is lined with cars. I have no idea how they’re all gonna get out after this thing is over, but eh. Not really my problem. They’re the dumb fucks who wanted to come to Vermont in the middle of January for a five-minute press conference.
I’m not even there. I’m looking out the attic window of the big house working on a project for Kiera. Her birthday is coming up next week and I have something special planned.
We got married the month after my father was found guilty of second-degree murder. He’s serving a thirty-year sentence in a federal prison because it turns out he was implicated in a whole slew of election fraud charges as well.
Louise was killed in a freak car accident three days before her trial began so she never served any time.
I don’t even care. Can’t make myself care. Even if it was my father’s doing.
Steven turned state’s evidence against my father and got out a couple months ago. We haven’t stayed in touch. My mother went to prison for eighteen months, but she’s been out for a while now. Boarded up tight in the family estate. Estranged from her children.
Am I surprised that my brothers and sisters took my side?