Page 114 of Totally Shipped
Over the next hour, we exchange stories about Harvey. Or rather, I listen to his parents' fondest memories, and how proud they were of his success.
As they speak, I felt the weight of all the secrets pressing heavily against my chest. The baby born on the island was not Harvey's. The wonderful man they are describing is not the Harvey I knew. But there is one story I can share with complete honesty.
“My baby would not have survived—I would not have survived, if not for Harvey’s selfless act.”
“You were in the ocean on a raft, and the shark appeared out of nowhere?"
I nod. "Yes. I’d gotten cut while climbing these horrific cliffs, and I think the blood in the water attracted the shark. It was terrifying, and being pregnant, I knew I couldn’t do anything to save myself. But Harvey, without a second thought, distracted the shark, allowing me, and Amelia, to get to safety."
"He was so brave," Cookie sighs, holding back tears.
"He truly was," I reply.
Brooke wants Harvey’s parents to be part of Amelia’s life. They had already lost their son, and she didn't want to take away their granddaughter.
When the hour is up, I make my excuses and stand again. Cookie strokes my cheek. “He must have loved you so much.”
“We loved each other. I want you to know that the last year of his life was so filled with love and happiness,” I tell them.
Lies of course, but this is the better way—for them and for Amelia.
I almost stumble when I exit the house, but Killian and Gray are there, waiting.
“Here, Macushla, we’ve got you.”
Killian takes Amelia from my arms and straps her into the car seat. Gray wraps me in a massive embrace.
“That must have been so hard, but it was the right thing. What’s that quote you like? You always have a quote that makes you feel better…”
"What use is wizardry if it cannot save a unicorn?"
“You nit-wit.”
KILLIAN
Today is the day we’ve all been dreading:
Press Conference day.
The Jefferson City Hilton is the venue.
As we pull up in our rental, there must be a couple dozen people milling around. It’s hard to tell if they are hotel guests, press, or just rubberneckers.
We’ve spent weeks perfecting our story, and now it’s time to set it out for all to see.
And pick apart.
I glance at Daisy and Brooke, seated side-by-side in the middle of the van. They’ve gone all out to look identical; same clothes, make-up, hair. But it’s obvious to me which one is Daisy.
She’s the one biting her lip and looking out the van window.
Poor thing.
It makes sense for ‘Brooke’ to be our spokeswoman today, but it’s a lot of pressure on Daisy. She’s not used to the TV cameras and the attention. But Brooke ‘Action’ Jackson is who the press are here to see.
“Macushla, you’ve got this,” I tell her.
She takes a deep breath. “Yep. Let’s do it.
