Page 51 of Nantucket Gala

“Many have said that on the night of the first Nantucket Gala, Francis was responsible for taking a young woman’s life. Natalie Masterson. The case never went to trial. And many people believe that justice wasn’t served. One of the reasons we’re here tonight is to raise money for people like Natalie, people stuck in violent situations, people who don’t have the resources to get out. I’m proud to say that the machine behind this endeavor is my grandson, Henry.” Bernard extended his hand out to Henry, who blushed.

“It is my hope that women have the support to stand against their abusers,” Bernard finished, his voice wavering. “It is my hope that no tragic event like this—between a powerful man like Francis and a woman like Natalie—ever comes to pass again.”

After that, Greta got up and read statistics about violence within marriages and romantic relationships. It was a somber speech, but it was a necessary one that directed their attention away from Hollywood glamour and to the realities of the shadows that lurk just beyond.

Next, it was time for Sophia to get up on stage. Henry joined the crowd in applauding extra long for that beautiful, once-broken woman. She gripped the podium and gazed out across the crowd.

“Wow,” she began. “I genuinely cannot believe I’m here. You see, back in 1985 at the original Nantucket Gala, I was sitting at that very same table.” She pointed down. “But I wasn’t seen. Not really. I was there as arm candy. I was there to support my husband, the director Francis Bianchi. At that time, I was lying to myself and everyone else about the nature of our relationship.You see, he was taking advantage of my creativity, my talents. And he refused to tell anyone our secret.” She wet her lips.

Henry, Sophia, and Barry had discussed this at length. They’d decided they wanted Sophia to reveal herself as the true screenwriter here—at the gala.

“I was the true writer ofA Cataclysm,A Sacred Fig, andThe Brutal Horizon,” she said. “Francis adored my scripts, but he felt sure I couldn’t sell them as a woman in the industry. Maybe he was right. So he put his own name on them. The main problem with that, of course, was that he promptly forgot that he hadn’t written them himself. His arrogance grew and grew. I was abandoned. And then, everything became even worse when I discovered he was cheating on me with my dear friend Natalie Masterson.” Sophia closed her eyes. Her face turned the color of soft cheese. “Never did I imagine that Francis could commit such a heinous crime. But that’s proof of something, isn’t it? We live our lives believing that the people we love are incapable of violent acts. We live in bubbles, thinking we’re safe. But so many of us are not safe. That is why I wrote my memoir. And that is why Henry and Barry are bringing us their filmThe Most Brutal Horizon. We want to illustrate just how dark a fairy tale can go.”

Again, the crowd applauded, but this time, they got on their feet. Sophia raised both hands, thanking them. Henry felt outside of his body. He couldn’t believe any of this was happening.

The MC of the event—Aurora, a local musician who’d once stayed at The Copperfield House and was still very close to the Copperfields—came out on stage and said, “We’ll now take a break for a bit of dancing, drinking, and snacking before we return to our seats for the first show. Enjoy yourselves, folks!”

When Sophia returned to the table, Henry reached for her hands and said, “You were magnificent!”

Bernard and Greta agreed.

“You were always meant to be a star, Sophia,” Greta said, her eyes shining.

Sophia blushed. “Maybe it wasn’t meant to happen till now.”

“To everything there is a season,” Greta agreed. “Shall we dance?”

Before long, everyone was on the dance floor. Henry bobbed between family members and film industry folks he’d been introduced to, people he had to thank over and over again for making all this possible.

“Filming already this autumn, Henry!” they said, clapping him on the shoulder.

“Hard to believe it’s almost here!”

“Get ready for the job of a lifetime!”

“Get ready to never sleep again!”

Henry laughed with them. He knew he was in for a rude awakening. But still, this was his dream. It was becoming a reality. It was beautiful.

Madeline approached not long after that. When they locked eyes, she began to dance, and he sidled up to her and bobbed around, feeling like a kid.

“Nobody taught you how to dance, did they?” she asked.

“When was I supposed to learn?”

Madeline threw her head back. “If you get as famous as you want to be, you can’t reveal that you have two left feet.”

“Maybe people will find it endearing.”

“They won’t,” Madeline quipped.

“What can I say? I’m a Midwestern boy at heart.”

Madeline tilted her head. “Is that so? I thought you were full Nantucket, born and bred.”

“Not in the slightest,” Henry said. He glanced around at his grandmother and grandfather, dancing just a few feet away, at his sister Anna dancing with her boyfriend, at others he loved with his whole heart and spirit, all of whom called Nantuckettheir home, and winced. “But I have to admit. Nantucket is growing on me.”

“Your entire family is here. It’s in your blood,” Madeline said.

---