The cameras had been rolling less than five minutes when I learned that my mother was supposed to become the villain.
Chapter 3
I found Theo the next morning in the library nook.
Max sat beside him holding a sleeve of crackers.
“I don’t have emotional training,” Max told me, “but I brought snacks.”
Theo didn’t smile.
I sat opposite him.
“You don’t have to trust me,” I said. “Trust yourself.”
His eyes lifted.
“Celeste said my mom wanted to replace your mother, right?”
His jaw tightened.
“Grace told her.”
“My mother would rather chew broken glass than say that to you.”
“You’re biased.”
“Absolutely. I’m also right. Two things can be true.”
He looked away.
I leaned forward.
“When Celeste told you, where was the camera?”
Theo’s expression changed.
“Near the rose arch.”
“Could it see your face?”
“Yes.”
“What exact words did she use?”
He hesitated.
“New mother figure.”
Max frowned. “That sounds like something adults say in meetings before they ruin lunch.”
Theo looked down at his notebook.
Celeste hadn’t spoken to his pain because she cared about it.
She had used it because it photographed well.
After a long silence, Theo opened the notebook.
“I need the production schedule.”
Max pushed the crackers toward him.
“Eat first. Revenge makes people stupid when they’re hungry.”
That was how our alliance became official.
Max named us the Snack-Size Justice Committee.
Theo objected.
I approved.
We began doing small things. Nothing dangerous. Nothing destructive. We moved chairs so cameras captured wider angles. Theo asked production assistants uncomfortable questions while they were filming.
“Why do you only interview Grace after she’s worked in the kitchen?”
One assistant blinked. “What?”
“I’m documenting patterns.”
Max appeared behind him.
“I’m documenting whether lunch is late.”
We put stickers marked HONESTY ZONE on objects connected to Celeste’s schemes. The sugar jar. The hallway table. The garden bench.
Max put one on Malcolm’s clipboard.
Malcolm removed it immediately.
“Suspicious,” Max said.
Then Lily started changing.
Not dramatically. Not enough for anyone to call it redemption.
She watched Grace bring blankets to her room without telling the cameras. She watched Mom cool Max’s burned tongue with ice water after Celeste dismissed him for being dramatic.
“Pain isn’t drama,” Grace told him. “It just hurts.”
Max looked at her with devotion.
She watched me help Mom pin her hair before interviews because Mom’s hands shook when she was nervous.
And one night, Lily watched her own mother practice crying in a mirror.
I knew because Lily told me the next morning.
She found me beside the laundry room.
“Celeste is going to use Theo again.”
I stared at her.
“Why tell me?”
She twisted the sleeve of her cardigan.
“Your mom asked if I wanted breakfast yesterday.”
“She’s asked you that every day.”
“I know.”
Lily swallowed.
“My mom says kindness only matters if people see it.”
I waited.
Lily’s eyes filled.
“I think your mom is kind when nobody sees.”
For the first time, I felt sorry for her.
Not enough to excuse anything.
But enough to recognize the difference between a cruel child and a child being taught cruelty.
“You don’t have to become a different person overnight,” I said. “Just stop helping your mother hurt mine.”
She nodded.
“I can’t tell you everything.”
“Tell me enough to protect Theo.”
She handed me a folded sheet of paper.
On it was a list.
Grace is jealous.
Ava bullies Lily.
Theo fears Grace.
Ethan chooses safety.
Celeste gets her second chance.
At the bottom, in different handwriting, someone had written:
LIVE FINALE: MAKE GRACE BREAK BEFORE THE VOTE.
My skin went cold.
“Who wrote that?”
“Malcolm.”
Lily’s voice was barely audible.
“Mom said if you scream on live television, we win.”
I folded the paper.
“Then I won’t scream.”
That afternoon, Theo got the piece we were missing.
Max created what he called an emergency cracker shortage near the production office. While two assistants argued with him about whether crackers constituted an essential service, Theo stood outside the editing room and recorded a conversation.
Malcolm’s voice came first.
“Grace tests well as the cold second woman. Ava tests well as jealous and aggressive. The audience loves hating a sharp teenage girl.”
Celeste asked, “And Lily?”
“Angel child. Protect that edit. Ethan leaning toward you gives us the ending.”
When Theo played the recording beneath the staircase, even Max stopped chewing.
“So they decided before we got here,” I said.
Theo nodded.
“They aren’t documenting behavior. They’re constructing categories.”
Max looked confused.
“They picked heroes and villains,” I translated.
“Oh.” He frowned. “That’s worse.”
Lily stood halfway down the stairs.
She had heard everything.
For a long moment, nobody spoke.
Then she sat beside us.
“My mom says the audience only remembers the story they’re given.”
Theo looked at her.
“Then give them evidence.”
The live finale took place three nights later.
Production covered the garden in white flowers and soft lights. Rows of audience members sat beyond the cameras. Malcolm wore a dark suit and the expression of a man certain he controlled the ending.
Live television was different.
A prerecorded sigh could be moved into another scene.
A tired face could be made to look jealous.
Silence could be guilt.
But live television didn’t give lies much time to dress themselves.
The comments floated around me brighter than ever.
This is it.
Grace gets exposed.
Ava loses control.
Celeste wins.
My mother wore a blue dress. Her hand trembled in mine.
“I’m scared.”
“I know.”
“What if I freeze?”
“I’ll speak.”
“What if you get angry?”
“I’m always angry. I’ve arranged it into furniture.”
She laughed.
Then she squeezed my hand.
“No matter what happens, I’m proud of you.”
That nearly undid me.
Across the garden, Celeste arrived in white.
Lily walked beside her in pale pink.
Ethan stood with Theo.
Rowan stood beside Max, whose jacket pockets were visibly stuffed with emergency snacks.
Malcolm stepped beneath the lights.
“Tonight,” he said to the cameras, “our families decide what a second chance truly means.”
Celeste spoke first.
Naturally.
She looked directly into the camera and allowed tears to gather beautifully in her eyes.
“I came here hoping for healing. Instead, Lily and I have been judged and made to feel unsafe.”
Her hand settled on Lily’s shoulder.
“Sometimes another woman simply cannot bear to see someone else loved.”
The comments flashed.
Perfect.
Grace is finished.
Ava is about to explode.
I stayed quiet.
Celeste turned toward my mother.
“Grace, I wish you had simply been honest about your jealousy.”
Mom’s hand trembled.
Then it stopped.
I stepped forward.
“Before anybody votes on which family deserves a second chance, maybe they should see which family spent the season rehearsing somebody else’s destruction.”
Malcolm went pale.
“Cut to commercial.”
A producer beside him whispered, “We’re live.”
I smiled.
That may have been the nicest sentence I’d heard all summer.
