Emily leaned closer as her perturbed tone hardened. “Don’t you think you’ve told enough? One day, I’m going to have to explain your book to her. Don’t you think you’ve done enough damage? Or maybe it’s just the money you want. I’m sure revealing more private information will sell more books.”
Meredith didn’t like Emily’s tone. Although she knew she deserved it; she wouldn’t let it stop her quest. After all, engaging Claire’s sister in any conversation was more than she’d accomplished in the past. “I hope you know this isn’t about selling books. Claire approached me with her story. We had an agreement, and I followed through. I’m not denying that her story’s made me a fortune. What do you want me to say? I’ll donate all proceeds from the rest of their story to Nichol? I’d gladly do that, but we both know she isn’t lacking for money.”
Emily looked up as the dark-haired little girl came running toward them. Undaunted by the visitor, Nichol spoke loud and clear, “Momma”—shaking her little head, she corrected—“I mean, Aunt Em, Mikey’s not sharing. I want my...”
Meredith stared, mesmerized by the young girl’s features. Her long, dark hair was pulled into two pigtails which swung side to side as she ran. Her light complexion emphasized her pink sun-kissed cheeks, and her deep brown eyes shimmered in the sunlight. Meredith recognized the intensity of the young girl’s stare, the perfect combination of her parents; however, the determination and diction in the small voice unquestionably came from her father.
This was the closest Meredith had been to Anthony and Claire’s child. With all of her heart, Meredith wanted to pull the little girl into her arms and hug her tight—anything to help make Claire’s daughter’s world a better place.
While Emily rectified the situation between the children, Meredith pondered the events that brought them all here today—the events that changed Nichol’s life forever. Meredith remembered the Claire Nichols of the past—the carefree young woman who skipped class at Valparaiso to spend the day at Wrigley Field. She recalled the woman who recounted horrific details of a life she never wanted or deserved, and she recollected the last time they met—almost three years ago.
Claire had arranged their meeting. She wanted to discuss Meredith’s first book My Life As It Didn’t Appear. Claire desired to stop the publication.
Momentarily, Meredith recalled Claire’s countenance—finally happy and obviously in love. While they ate lunch in Chicago, Claire opened up, talking about her change of heart, and confessing her pregnancy. It was a step of faith on Claire’s part. Her pregnancy hadn’t been publicly announced, yet during that luncheon, Claire entrusted her long-time friend with her special news. Undoubtedly, it could’ve been a great coup, but Meredith wouldn’t leak the news. She’d done that to her friend once before, and the repercussions of that deception would haunt Meredith forever.
Unfortunately, the book was beyond Meredith’s influence; it was in the hands of a publisher with specific instructions. Claire offered any amount of money to hide the story—forever. She worried that someday her child would learn the truth behind her parents’ meeting, and Claire didn’t want that to happen.
Meredith promised Claire she’d try—and she did.
Then, less than a month later, Claire disappeared—the disclosure clause of their contract went into motion. Publication was imminent. Meredith’s efforts, along with a multitude of Rawlings’ attorneys, were unable to keep the book from being published. Upon publication, My Life As it Didn’t Appear entered the bestseller list and has broken records ever since.
Meredith hoped that by continuing their story—telling the world the rest of their saga, maybe—just maybe—someday Nichol would understand.
Emily’s voice brought Meredith back to present. “The answer is no, and if you release any information about Nichol, I’ll have you fined, and with my husband’s help—arrested.”
“I’m not here to expose Nichol,” Meredith continued. “I’m here because I want to talk to Claire. The people at the Everwood facility said all visitors must be approved by you; therefore, I’m asking for your permission.”
Emily sat taller. “Ms. Banks, I’m not sure what part of this conversation you’re not hearing or comprehending, but the answer is no.” Before Meredith could respond, Emily continued, “Besides, it wouldn’t do you any good. Claire can’t tell you her story—she can’t answer your questions.”
“Then let me just talk with her.”
“Don’t you understand? She can’t talk to anyone.”
“The staff didn’t say visitors were restricted due to her condition. They said they’re restricted due to your insistence.”
“Ms. Banks—so help me God—if I read about this in a news release, I’ll come after you myself. Do you understand?”