Page 154 of Rebel

I meet her eyes. She’s worried, but she smiles. “Beck, I’m so glad to see you up and around. I heard about what happened?—”

“Cut the shit,” I snap as she recoils.

“Beck, I don’t know what you mean.” She frowns, looking so contrite I almost believe her myself.

“You’re a good actor, I’ll give you that,” Chase snaps. “No wonder we didn’t see the fucking snake in our grass.”

“I don’t know what’s happening.” Her eyes are too tight, and her lips are flat.

I bet that she would show. She gave everything for this band, so she wouldn’t give up, and I was right.

I don’t speak. Instead, I reach over and turn on the TV. By now, the news report will be playing, so I crank up the volume. She glances from me to it, her face turning pale and mouth dropping open as she watches the interview we gave this morning.

I sit in the middle of the band, my bruises and cuts on display. I look strong, though, despite the pain in my eyes.

I crank up the volume further until my voice rings around the room, telling Rachel everything she needs to know.

I played her at her own game.

It’s over. She’s done.

The truth is out.

“There will be questions at the end, but for now, I ask you to listen. My legal name is Summer Leroy. It’s the same last name as Willa Leroy, the Dead Ringers’ previous lead singer and my sister. I joined this band to find out what happened to my sister. I know the news and coroner’s report said she killed herself, but that is incorrect. My sister was tortured, abused, blackmailed, and hurt until she was put on that bridge. Someone within the Dead Ringers’ own ranks pushed her to be there the night she died. The news has called her selfish, stupid, and naïve—everything you can imagine. It broke me. They didn’t know the little girl who would sing until her voice gave out, who only ever dreamed of the stage. She gave everything to sing, but I’m here to tell you about her now.” I smile sadly.

“A lot has been happening, as you can probably see. I was here to find the truth about my sister, and I found it. My sister was being blackmailed by the Dead Ringers’ manager, Rachel. She not only threatened my sister, but she tortured her in unimaginable ways until it pushed her over the edge. She felt like she had no one to turn to as her mental health spiraled. She wasn’t spoiled nor behaving badly. She was screaming for help, and no one bothered to check on her. Rachel is complicit in my sister’s death. My sister was going to kill herself due to the strain and heartbreak she pushed her into, but she did not kill herself. A man named Ben did. He was obsessed with my sister and working with Rachel, and when my sister didn’t return his one-sided love, he killed her and made it look like a suicide. Moreover, he joined me in trying to find the truth, manipulating me the entire time. Last night, he attacked me and tried to kill me so I couldn’t spill the truth. He didn’t win. Hate never will. I sit here not for me or for your pity, but for her, my sister, Willa Leroy.

“You saw the spoiled rock star, but I saw the little girl who sang with me while I cleaned. I saw the little girl who performed at every talent show and stared at the stars and dreamed for more, and that’s how I want her to be remembered—not for the people who killed her, but for the person she was before that and the legacy she left. My sister was a talented person, but she was a person. She was a daughter to a mother who loved her even through her illness, and she was a sister to me.” Tears fall, but I don’t wipe them away. “She was an activist, an animal lover, a writer, a singer, an artist, and a beautiful soul, so when you speak of her, speak of that. I’m here to set the record straight and tell you the truth so it can’t be distorted again. My sister was a person, and she was murdered. I miss her every single day. Thank you for listening, I hope we all learn something from this. I hope we change the way we treat others. I hope we choose love and kindness because I will.” I swallow, my bruised throat bobbing. “We will now take questions.”

“Guys, guys, did you know who Beck was?” a reporter asks.

“We did,” Chase lies, “and we supported her all the way. We still do. We stand with Beck the way we should have stood with her sister.”

“What happened to your manager?” someone calls.

“She will be arrested and fired,” Trav answers.

I turn to Rachel as she stands, her face pale.

“You’re fired,” Michael tells her, and he snaps his fingers. The door opens for the police officers, who cuff a screaming Rachel.

“I did it all for us, the label, and this band!” She fights as they drag her out, but my eyes turn to the screen, and I refocus on the questions.

“So what’s next for the Dead Ringers?” another asks.

I smile. “Hopefully an uneventful tour in honor of my sister.”

They laugh with me at that as I turn the TV off and face Michael. “Here is where this is going to go. Your label will put out a public apology. You will admit to your neglect of my sister and condemn everything. All the money earned during this tour will go to my sister and the legacy I am setting up for her. You will beg for forgiveness for not helping her, and you will never let this happen again.” I peer at him through my lashes. “You will also support everything we do on this tour and in the future.”

“You . . . You’re staying?” Michael rasps, no doubt worried about losing his rock stars, but I saw genuine pain this morning when we told him the truth. No matter what, he didn’t kill my sister or do this, but he turned a blind eye whether he knew it or not, and he has to live with that, just as we do.

The blame lies with all of us and will until the end.

We failed her, but we won’t again.

“This is my home.” I look at the guys. “It’s where I feel closest to my sister and my dream. I’m staying. I’m a Dead Ringer.”

I’m a Dead Ringer, just like she was.

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