Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 123579 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 618(@200wpm)___ 494(@250wpm)___ 412(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 123579 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 618(@200wpm)___ 494(@250wpm)___ 412(@300wpm)
“Look, I know you—”
“You could have told me,” she cuts in, hurt and anger cocktailing in her eyes. “You should have told me. I’m your best friend. How could you not tell me?”
“I didn’t tell anyone, Stil.” I squeeze her hand. “I wanted to put it behind me. I fooled myself into thinking I could just walk away, but it doesn’t work that way.”
Stil nods, glancing around surreptitiously.
“Did you tell them that he came to the office?” Her quiet words rise only as far as my ears.
I glance at everyone in the room before returning my eyes to Stil.
“No, and I don’t want to. It won’t help. He was a jerk, but he didn’t admit to anything. Didn’t incriminate himself any further. And it is just more of what we already have. More of my word against his. I’m set on doing this. He didn’t change that.”
“But you’ll tell Trevor, right?”
I pull my lips into my mouth, releasing a deep breath through my nose.
“I’m not sure. We’ll see.”
“You should tell him.” Stil stiffens her lips in that stubborn way I hate. “Tell him or I will.”
“You wouldn’t.” I aim a glare at her that seems to bounce right off. “This isn’t the best time to discuss this, Stil. I’m about to tell the whole world Kyle Manchester raped me. Can we talk—”
“You’re right.” She pats my shoulder, her eyes softer. “You focus on this. Get through this, and we’ll talk about it later.”
I smile faintly when she stands. The last thing I want to do is tell Trevor. Clearly Kyle knows Trevor is my weakness and would love to see him involved in any way he can. He wants to drag him into this however he can. It’ll be hard enough for me to see this through without worrying that Trevor will be hurt in the process.
My lawyer, Connor, walks over, squatting in front of me and taking my fingers in his bigger hand. He’s not exactly been a father figure to me. He’s only in his mid-forties, but definitely avuncular. He’s as honest as Abe and a shark when he needs to be on my behalf, but never with me.
“Just stick to what’s on the teleprompter,” he says. “We’ve all agreed on that statement. It tells the truth, but doesn’t give everything away yet. We need to roll this information out carefully.”
“Teleprompter, got it.” I glance at the large screen mounted above the camera with the words scrolling as Geena checks the statement one last time.
“Okay, let’s do it then,” Karen says.
At my very first photo shoot, I realized that I loved the camera. Everyone said it loved me back, and I’m counting on that today. The nausea churning my stomach, the sweat slicking my palms, the anxiety like a studded choker around my neck—all fall away as soon as soon as that camera goes live.
“Hello, I’m Sofie Baston.” My hands lay relaxed in my lap. “Many of you know me from magazines, or the runway, or ads for your favorite perfume and clothes. I’ve been very fortunate to find success as a model over the last fifteen years. Modeling has made my life very public, but there is one thing I’ve never talked about publicly until now.”
I draw a deep breath, knowing that once these words leave my mouth, I can’t take them back. Once I level these accusations at one of the country’s most powerful men, I can’t rewind.
And he’ll come after me.
When I think of how he hurt me that night—stole my virginity and stripped me of my dignity—and did the same thing to Shaunti and God knows who else, there is only one thought singing through my head.
Bring it.
“Fifteen years ago it was my high school prom night,” I continue. “I was nervous and excited. There were pictures and dancing. All the things you hope your prom will be. I had no idea that it would be one of the worst nights of my life. That night, my date raped me.”
I pause to swallow, the word “rape” curdling on my tongue.
“It was the most humiliating night of my life, and there are some things I’ve blocked, things I’ve tried to forget, but I remember who did it.”
I tip my chin up an extra inch, eyes locked on the camera like it’s a person right there I have to convince.
“It was Kyle Manchester, one of the leading candidates in next year’s U.S. Senate race. I know many will wonder why now. Why, after fifteen years of silence, I’ve decided to come forward. I held back for the same reasons so many other women do. Fear. Shame. I was unsure that people would believe me. I was young and scared then, and trusted the wrong man. Last week someone else made this accusation, and seeing that person’s courage spurred me to come forward, even after all this time.”