Proven Guilty (Treadmill III)

XXI

I think everything that happened in my life, happened for a reason. I know that sounds trite, but the more I've thought about it, the more I feel it's true. There were truly awful parts of my life, even before Hank entered it, but there were so many events that led me to the most important person, and that person kept me going. I can't express enough how much Rebecca Eaves saved my life, time after time.

Every day, I try to live a life that Rebecca can be proud of. She's like the angel on my shoulder, and then I'm my own devil. That part has never changed for me.

Maybe one day, Rebecca can be my maid of honor as well. I almost want to get married purely to give her that opportunity. But, that would be a stupid reason to attach myself to someone else for the rest of my life.

Anyway. We're nearing the end, here.

I hope you're ready.

><><><

A rush of emotions coursed through Kennedy when she left Margot Polind's office, six months and three days after Rebecca had asked her to be her maid of honor.

Excitement. Terror. Pride. Exhaustion. Relief.

Six months. Four drafts. Two authors. One lawyer. One editor.

And then it was done. Margot gave the final approval on the final draft, and Kennedy left her office feeling simultaneously freer and more trapped than she had felt when she walked in.

She called Rebecca on the drive back to her Airbnb.

"Dude, it's done. They loved it, they didn't have any major notes, and it's done."

Kennedy wasn't sure if she heard Rebecca's shriek through the phone or all the way from Rebecca's apartment.

"You just burst my eardrum."

"Sorry." Rebecca gasped out, "I just can't believe it. We wrote a book. Well, you wrote a book, but I helped!"

"You did more than help." Kennedy laughed. "That's why your name is also gonna be on the cover."

"Yeah, but smaller and like, in a corner or something." Rebecca countered.

They had come to the joint decision to have the book be written primarily by Kennedy and to have Rebecca write the foreword. So, the book would have her name on it, but not as the actual author.

Her name would be on the cover of a book, nonetheless.

Kennedy had decided to rent an Airbnb after her first month of crashing at Rebecca and Bradley's apartment, despite Rebecca's insistence that Kennedy was more than welcome to stay as long as she liked. Kennedy didn't want to intrude, and having her own place for the time she was in town helped her feel like an adult. She was writing a book; she was thirty years old...she wanted to feel like an adult.

And the longer she stayed within driving distance of her best friend, the more Kennedy realized she could move back. She didn't have to live so far away. No one was treating her like a pariah; no one seemed to really remember who she was. Or maybe they were just too old or young to have paid attention to the news cycles that Kennedy had dominated years ago.

"Celebratory dinner tonight?" Rebecca suggested when Kennedy didn't respond to her corner comment.

"Absolutely." Kennedy replied, trying not to think about the "what next" question that loomed in the forefront of her mind. "7:00?"

"See you then."

"See you then. Love you."

"Love you too."

><><><

Kennedy was sitting in the middle of an apartment filled to the brim with cardboard boxes when her ARC came in the mail.

She tried not to squeal when she pulled the glossy hardcover book out of its packaging. Across the top of the book, in large block letters, was the title The Terrible Trial of Kennedy Abrams. Underneath the title, in smaller block letters, was the subtitle: and Her Scapegoat, Rebecca. At the bottom of the cover, in the same font as the title, was her name: Kennedy Abrams.

"Holy shit," Kennedy whispered out loud, to no one but herself. She flipped the book over in her hand, scared to open it. She saw the small circle in the bottom right-hand corner of the front cover: foreword by Rebecca Eaves.

Kennedy took a deep breath and opened the book.

A/N: Not a long chapter, but I hope you enjoyed it regardless!