Blanca Like Snow

Chapter 44 - Statement

          One thing is certain: we can't trust the police for this. They disappointed us already so unless we put pressure, the truth will be buried once again. The only power we have is the one of social pressure so releasing the clip online is the first step, then making it go viral the next, hoping the media will catch up and like that people will want to find the truth. More than just one person coming back from the dead, this is about police being incompetent and some shady management behind.

It takes just a bit of time to get the video online and then a call to start making people see it. Here it's where Will and his connections are useful because they are in charge of spreading it like wildfire, claiming to have evidence of the false accusations against them. It's a call to boost yet another injustice in this world filled with them.

And while this is happening, Nora, Louise and I head to the hotel where the reporters are waiting for this very important and secretive press conference. Surely they are buzzing now, considering the truth that Laura was behind my attack, that my stepmother tried to kill me a second time was revealed.

When we make it back to the car, Mark is waiting for us and opens the door, giving me one encouraging smile to which I just nod and then he's driving us to the hotel. My breathing is controlled and even as I go over what I have to say in the press conference. Louise is monitoring the activity of what we have released the whole time, and how people are reacting. Nora is by my side, holding my hand but not saying anything, just reminding me that she's with me and we'll make it through this ordeal.

I look out of the window, trying to calm down, feeling just a bit nervous for what's to come.

One thing is revealing to Laura, basically my enemy, that I'm alive and she failed again to kill me. A very different is to come out of my hiding place to everyone who have thought me dead. I know I'll be severely judged and attacked for hiding for so long, for making them believe I was dead. I know I have an excuse and we've planned carefully what I'm going to say to minimise the damage, but it's impossible not to get this to backfire on my face even a little bit.

What worries me the most is my family in Chile. They have believed for these almost six months I've been dead, mourning me but here I am, and I'm going to make it public without having called them first.

Nora and Louise gave me a chance to call them, advised me to do so, but I couldn't bring myself to call Mum. My hands were trembling as I held the mobile and my heartbeat was so loud I couldn't hear anything but that wild roar in my ears. I was scared of the hurt I'd heard, the disappointment and confusion.

I'm not as brave as I pretend to be, and when it comes to my family I'm just again a little girl who was left behind by my mother. Even if I understand things and I don't try to blame her, a little part of me will always feel rejected by her. I'm sure Dad would've never made the decision Mum made, he would've given up everything else for me. He lived for my sake.

My relationship with Mum isn't good and I am too big of a coward to tell her myself I've been alive all this time, drowning in guilt, fear and worry but still too chicken to call her myself to tell her I'm all right.

It's been too long, I should've called months ago. Now I don't know how to do it.

My mind is so busy with all these thoughts that I don't realise when we make it to the hotel until Nora lets go of my hand and tells me it's time to get out. I shift to follow her but my door opens before I do that. I get out and find Mark standing next to my door so I smile at him in gratitude, yet before I take another step forward he speaks up.

"I'm sorry, Miss Blanca," his voice rings. Confused, I focus my attention on him, for a second getting distracted with the fleeting thought that I had a crush on him but now that seems so long ago and that those feelings can't compare with what I feel for Will. "If I had driven you that day nothing of this would've happened. I'm really sorry, I've felt so guilty all this time thinking you were—" I'm surprised at the strangled voice of the driver, the tormented look in his eyes and I feel bad, really bad because I never imagined that here, someone like Mark was feeling guilty for what happened. "Please, do know I'll never let that happen again."