Page 90 of Erased

Jade’s expression is unflinching, pointed. She’s changed. Or maybe returned. She reminds me of the girl I met the day she warned me about Ralston. Her fire is back. Her eyes lock on mine, and she gives a slow, steady nod. “You’ve got this.”

My phone buzzes in my pocket, interrupting my thoughts. “Sorry. I should turn this off before our panel.” Whatever vitriol will be heading our way, it can wait until tomorrow.

Everything falls silent as I spot the email on my screen.

Subject: Can you help?

I don’t know if you’ll ever see this. I’m a student at Havenport University. I read your book, and I think something similar is happening to me. Part of me thinks I’m going crazy, but if you see this…could we talk? I realize I’m a stranger, but you’re the only onewho might understand. I’m pretty sure my professor stole my work. She studied under Althea Ralston. Maybe you know her? Professor Danica Comer. Anyway, please just…if there’s something I should do, can you help?

My breathing goes shallow at the mention of Dani’s name. Ralston’s true heir. I hesitate, fingers hovering over my screen as I try to make sense of what I’m reading.

“Everything okay?” Stella watches me closely, worry painting itself across her face.

“Yeah, it’s just…”

I chew my bottom lip, distracted already as the spark I’d nearly forgotten returns with a vengeance. This reminder is all it took.

People have begun to take their seats, but Jade, Hayden, and Stella stay.

They wait.

We’re in this together. Still.

I type and retype my response a hundred times as the clock counts down on the screen ahead.

In the end, with six minutes to spare, it’s this.

I’m so happy you reached out. First, I want to tell you you’re not crazy. And you’re not alone. I’m sorry this is happening to you. I can help you, but first I have to warn you. You have to know that fighting this will hurt you, too. The system chews us up and spits us out in different ways—sometimes for abusing power, sometimes for daring to challenge it. You have to decide if it’s worth it. Someone smarter than I amonce warned me that in war, everyone bleeds. So, the question becomes, how far are you willing to go?

I pause before sending to add, walking as I go:

I am on your side, and I can introduce you to others who will believe you, but the hard truth is that there will be far more people who won’t believe you than those who will. To fight this, you need to care less about being believed than being heard. Because even in the quiet, there is power. And even in being erased, there is resistance. The cost of truths like ours is this. You will become both hero and ghost. I can’t promise you it’ll be worth it, but I can promise you I’ll be here if you decide it is.

I hit send and smile just as the lights around the stage go down and the crowd breaks into a slow rumble of applause.

It’s not a huge turnout, but it’s something. It’s the first film festival of many, the first chance to share our truths and the truths of so many others.

So many…

GHOSTS

The word appears on the screen—white font that disappears like fog on the black background—finishing my thought.

Because that’s the truth, isn’t it? That’s what I am now. In fighting Ralston, I became a ghost. My career is as invisible as it ever was. Everything I thought I once dreamed of has faded away. In terms of publishing my dream novel, I’m still right where I started, right where I seem destined to remain.

On the screen, a woman walks down the sidewalk at sunset. We can’t see her face yet, but we hear her voice. Her truth. Stella is proud of the lighting here, she’d say. The timing we managed to nail. I’m proud of the pain behind it. The way we all felt the heat—everyone involved—and walked through the flames anyway.

I may not be where I want to be, but this? I look to either side of me as we take our seats.This is good too.

Ihave friends because of the fight. I have something to fight for—people to fight for. I have the peace that comes with knowing I got everything I wanted. Ralston is gone. I’ve published a book. And none of it fixed my life.

Despite all of my big dreams, I’ve felt happiest writing the articles that help other people and painstakingly putting this documentary together with Stella, over so many late nights we’ve lost count and so many slices of pizza we’re practically walking carbs. I feel most like myself—whatever this new version of myself is—responding to emails that make people feel seen. Creating art that changes people, saves people. Feeling the fire that comes with demanding truth. Maintaining the website that helps slay dragons that are not my own.

Stella smiles at me, her face alight with the screen’s glare, and I smile back.There’s no coming back from this, and I wouldn’t want to.

We did it, she mouths, eyes already lining with tears.

Hayden was right, I guess, though our missions look a little different. At their heart, they’re the same.

In the end, when you face a corrupt system, you either become part of it and benefit from what it is, or you fight against it.

Either way, you’ll lose.

You just have to decide what quiet legacy you want to leave for the few who will remember you. No matter how they try toerase me, the image on the screen and the email I just answered are reminders that, for some, I’ve already left my mark.

And I’ll keep doing what I can, however I can.

These days, I’m okay with being a ghost. Some legacies aren’t meant to be loud. They’re only meant to last.