Chapter 7: No Ledger

I told Jared I had a recheck at the clinic.

He kissed my forehead and told me to take my time.

That meant he wanted me gone while he and Shea worked on the finale.

Wyatt was waiting at the curb in his white truck.

He lived twenty minutes out, in a cabin above Oak Creek.

It had a green tin roof and a porch that sagged on one end.

A brown dog with a gray muzzle came off the porch to inspect my shoes.

"That's Biscuit," Wyatt said. "He doesn't judge. Sit."

I sat at his kitchen table and put my phone down between us.

"I need you to read something," I said. "All of it, before you say anything."

He read for a long time.

He scrolled through every photo of every screen, and his jaw tightened once on the poll and again on the café video.

When he reached the page with his own face on it, he stopped.

"The ranger," he said. "He saved her. Should he be her next heartbreak."

"Sixty-three percent said yes."

"Of what?"

"Of four thousand people who pay twenty-nine dollars a month to watch me."

He put the phone down very gently.

Then he went to the sink and ran water over his hands and stood there with his back to me.

"Okay," he said. "Sheriff's office. Today. I'll drive you."

"No."

"Melinda."

"They'd delete the page before you finished the paperwork."

My voice came out calm, and I was almost surprised.

"Shea has a million followers. She'll cry on camera about her sick sister."

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