Our next stop is a meeting with Chris Reale. I don’t know why, but I’m expecting him to be this squinty-eyed judgmental asshole who lectures me about responsibility. Instead he turns out to be a laid-back guy in his thirties who shows up to our meeting in jeans and a T-shirt. Dad and I meet him at a local Italian restaurant because apparently he works out of his home.
We stand in the foyer for a few minutes while the hostess goes to inquire about our seating arrangement. I glance around at the other people, worried about being recognized, worried about them overhearing things.
“Relax,” Chris says. “John said we could use his private banquet room to talk since it’s not booked today. He hooks me up on a regular basis and you can expect total discretion from the staff.”
A server returns and leads us through the dining area to a back room. Even though I’m wearing sunglasses, I keep my eyes trained on the floor. Chris, Dad, and I take a seat at a table set with napkins and silverware. A waiter brings us three menus.
“Order whatever you want,” Chris says. “It’s on me.”
Dad starts to object. “Oh, you don’t need to—”
Chris cuts him off. “Are you kidding me? This is the first interview Genevieve has given to anyone, right? This is a big deal for me. I can afford to spring for some Italian food.”
I look up from my menu just long enough to make eye contact with him. “Thank you.”
“Not that it’s all about me and my career,” Chris adds quickly. “I’m about the same age as Brad Freeman and I’ve empathized with him throughout this ordeal because I could see myself in his position, you know? I’m glad to get a chance to set the record straight about his involvement.”
“And mine,” I say.
Chris rests his elbows on the table. “Look, Genevieve. I want you to know I’m on your side, too. You’re here, helping get the truth out into the world. That’s admirable, and I won’t throw you to the wolves, no matter what you tell me. You can strike anything you say off the record if you want.”
“That’s very understanding of you,” Dad says. “My main concern is protecting my daughter’s personal information so that she isn’t harassed by internet nut jobs.”
“Understandable,” Chris says. “And do both you and your ex-wife have unlisted phone numbers and addresses?”
“I do,” Dad says. “And Genevieve will be staying with me for a bit. Isn’t that right, hon?”
I nod. I came back here to clear the air and take responsibility for the things I did, but that doesn’t mean I have to hang out and let strangers throw rocks at me. I’ll miss Shannon and my mom, but I feel like I have unfinished business in Springdale. I want to help with the displays for the Zion Canyon Touch Trail and watch kids use it after it’s completely finished. I want to get to know Rachael better, and spend more time with my dad. And then of course there’s Elliott. I’m not ready to let him go yet either.
The waiter reappears with three glasses of water and takes our order.
After he leaves, Chris turns on a tape recorder and I start to tell the story again. He lets me get all the way through, redirecting me a couple of times when I wander off topic.
“What made you originally want to tell the truth?” he asks.
“My conscience, I guess. I’ve always believed in telling the truth. Going through every day having to face the fact that an innocent man was being blamed for something I did forced me to realize I was being a bad person.”
The waiter arrives with our food. I pick at my toasted ravioli, dipping a deep-fried square into the marinara sauce until it’s almost saturated. I nibble at a soggy corner.
Chris samples his fettuccine and then takes a big drink of water. “Was there one moment that pushed you over the edge?”
“The first person I told was this guy I met in Utah. And instead of condemning me, he encouraged me to tell the truth.” I pause. “Before that I had talked to my dad about a time when he had to come forward about something. The two of them helped me see that although everyone might not forgive me, the people who care about me would at least try to understand why I did what I did.”
“So this guy you talked to—is it the guy I’ve seen pictures of you with?”
“Probably,” I say. “I haven’t been online in a couple of days.”
“So you’re dating again?” Reale arches an eyebrow.
I clear my throat. “Yes. I know a lot of people aren’t going to understand, but I don’t have to defend my feelings. I loved Dallas—I will always love him—but in the months preceding the accident, we’d starting growing apart, heading in separate directions. We were fighting that night, in fact. I was pretty insecure when it came to him being a celebrity.”
“If you hadn’t been fighting, do you think it would have changed how the rest of that night played out?”
“Probably. I’m trying not to go down those ‘what if?’ rabbit holes anymore, because they’re long and dark and they never end. I made a decision that we had to go home; I made a decision to drive. Those choices had horrible consequences, but I can’t go back in time, you know?”
“I do,” Chris says. “More than you know.” He asks me a few more questions and has me and my dad sign a few release forms. As we’re heading back to the entrance of the restaurant, Chris touches me lightly on the arm. “How scared are you about the public response to this?”
“I’m not looking forward to it,” I admit. “But the pain of public outrage doesn’t compare to the pain of realizing a second person almost died because of me.”
Chris nods. “I hope you’re getting some help for that.”
“I have an appointment with a therapist back in Utah.”
“Good. What’s the best way to reach you in case I have any follow-up questions?”
“You can email me,” I tell Chris. “Or call me. I don’t have a problem answering follow-up questions. Just know that I probably won’t read the article because I don’t want to read the comments.”
“I’ll read the article.” Dad wraps a protective arm around my shoulders. “And maybe we can read the comments together.”
We head back to Utah on Friday and the article goes live the next morning. I’m back in my room at Dad’s house and I don’t even log on to look. Instead I get up early with Rachael and head to Zion. I’m greeted by a smile from Elliott and a warm hug from Halley.
“Good to see you back,” Elliott says. “Did everything go okay?”
“I guess. I’m avoiding the internet so I won’t have to read all the horrible comments.”
“There aren’t any,” Elliott says. “Chris turned the comments off on his article. He said it was a short factual piece to set the record straight and that the truth should speak for itself. He said he’ll be doing a follow-up opinion piece later in the week and that people so inclined can comment on that.”
“That was nice of him,” I say. “But I’m sure there are plenty of comments in other places.”
I’m right, of course, and after I get home from work my dad skims through a bunch of them. “They’re not as bad as you expected,” he says. “It’s mostly just a bunch of people criticizing you for not telling the truth. But hey, there are a few votes of support mixed in with all the rage. Some people think you’re pretty brave. And look, your hashtag is trending.”
“Fabulous. What every girl dreams of.” I dare to peek over my dad’s shoulder. “Wait, go back,” I say, as he skims through the #JusticeForDallas and #GenevieveGrace threads on Twitter. “Did someone just tweet that I killed Dallas on purpose because he was about to break up with me?”
Dad scrolls back up and taps the screen to expand a conversation. Sure enough, there’s a stream of tweets that reads:
Lila Alice Ferrier @Lila_Roxx • 4m
I know someone who was at the Try This at Home release party and she saw #GenevieveGrace and #DallasKade fighting.
Lila Alice Ferrier @Lila_Roxx • 4m
I bet #GenevieveGrace swerved into the other car on purpose because #DallasKade dumped her for @RealAnnikaLux.
Patrick S @pxs1228 • 3m
@Lila_Roxx Wouldn’t be the first time a teen girl went psycho when she got dumped. #GenevieveGrace
Marco T @marcoplayspolo • 2m
@pxs1228 @Lila_Roxx How are we just now hearing about this? Are the cops going to open a new investigation into #GenevieveGrace?
Dallas Forever @dallasismybae • 2m
@marcoplayspolo @pxs1228 @Lila_Roxx idk, but either way #GenevieveGrace should be arrested. She killed someone and then lied about it!
The Mad Marvel @psylockeshock • 1m
@Lila_Roxx @pxs1228 Have u ever watched Dallas’s early YouTube vids? #GenevieveGrace is in a couple and she seems like a total psychobitch.
“People are idiots,” my dad says.
“They are angry, anyway,” I say. “What’s funny is that some of these people are the same ones who were tweeting me messages of support and speculating that I was carrying Dallas’s baby a few weeks ago.”
“Some people just want to be part of the story, even if it’s a story that’s completely fabricated,” Dad says. “But look—we read them and you survived.”
“I guess.” There was a time when a bunch of comments calling me a murderous psycho bitch would have really upset me. To be honest, they do upset me.
But I won’t let them destroy me.