Chapter 23: Written By

At three in the morning Mason carried six green notebooks up Roz's front steps in a banker's box.

The sixth was on top, with its spine cracked.

I opened it on Roz's kitchen table and found the pier scene in my own handwriting, the ferry, the boots, the tide.

Roz made tea and, for once, said nothing.

At nine the Writers Guild ballroom was full again, and there were more cameras than the day before.

I sat in the first row with Roz on my left and Mason past her, in a plain black suit Roz had bought me at a thrift store with her own money.

My stepfather sat on my right.

He had not slept either.

The Guild vice-president stood at the podium with a single sheet of paper and a glass of water he never touched.

"The panel has examined the director's copy, the printed first draft held by Ms. Tully and six handwritten notebooks," he said.

"It has examined the raw footage and the sworn statement of Mr. Holloway."

He turned the page.

"It has also read a statement from Ms. Draper, signed last night in the presence of her counsel."

Nobody moved.

"Ms. Draper admits she did not write Low Tide," he said. "She admits she presented Ms. Mercer's work as her own."

A sound ran through the room.

"The Guild rules that the sole screenplay credit for Low Tide belongs to Willa Mercer."

I did not hear what came after.

Roz had her hand clamped around my wrist, and she was crying with her mouth wide open and no sound at all.

The vice-president read the rest.

Ms. Draper's name would be removed from every print, every poster and every database.

The Meridian board would reissue the Best Original Screenplay nomination under the correct name.

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