Chapter 16: Roll It

Mason's POV

Camille was the first one to move.

She swung toward the audience with both hands out, tears already standing in her eyes.

"He's drunk," she said. "Lance has been drinking since Sunday. He's bitter, he's humiliated, and he'll say anything to keep his wife."

"Do you have proof?" the moderator asked Lance. "Anything but your word?"

Lance looked at me.

He swallowed twice before he could speak.

"I don't," he said. "Mason does."

Every head turned.

There was a man standing at the back of the house in a Draper Pictures lanyard, and he had been standing there since the first question.

I had noticed him because he was on his phone.

He started down the aisle fast.

"Mr. Kerr," he called. "Mr. Kerr, I'll remind you that your contract..."

"I know what my contract says."

"Then you know a public statement is a breach."

"Yes," I said.

I turned to the tech at the side of the stage, a kid in a headset who had been watching the whole thing with his mouth open.

"Is my laptop still plugged into the screen?"

"It's in the green room," he said. "I can run it."

"Give me a minute."

He ran.

I put the microphone on the stand.

For two years I had done what I was told.

I had signed the page with the wrong name on it and told myself that it was a studio formality.

I had stood ten feet from Lance on fifty-one days of shooting, and I had not once asked what a man like that was so afraid of.

I looked at Willa.

She stood at my elbow in a navy dress that wasn't hers, still holding the moderator's microphone.

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