Page 3 of Every Star that Shines

Delanie swallowed, her mind scrambling. “Three years ago?”

“Yeah, the zombie one.”

“What?” Delanie frowned. She had used a zombie blockbuster Nathan had starred in to make a statement about multi-national conglomerates preying on mom and pop stores. “But why are they mad about that?” Delanie scrolled further down, looking for answers. She found a tweet with the answer just as Marie started reading a similar one aloud.

“‘Nathan Tait is the scum of the Earth. I can’t believe Delanie Fletcher would defend him on any level. She needs a wake-up call. Hashtag cancel Delanie.’ Well, they certainly blew that out of proportion. No one even knew Nathan Tait was a wife-beater back then.”

Desmond scowled. “No one’s even sure of it now.”

Marie drew back. “You saying you believe him that he’s the victim here?”

Desmond held up his hands defensively. “I’m only saying we don’t know, and it’s up to the courts to figure out which of them is telling the truth.”

“I don’t think the Internet is going to let a court decide my fate.” Delanie’s voice sounded hollow in her ears. How could the outpouring of hatred and bile on her Twitter feed be directed at her? She wanted to crawl under the table and hide her burning face. “I have to explain what happened.” She started to type a response.

Marie’s hand closed around hers. “No. You don’t respond to this, not right now. Maybe not ever. You’ll only fuel the flames.”

“But if I don’t, they’ll think I don’t care,” Delanie objected, tugging her hand out of Marie’s.

The server brought their food, but as the T-Bone steak she’d been looking forward to was placed in front of her, she knew she wouldn’t be able to eat a bite. Not now.

Her phone chimed with another text from Josh. Call me ASAP. Her throat closed, and she cleared it.

“I’m sorry, guys, but I think I better go home and deal with this. I need to call Josh, and I don’t want to talk about this here.”

Marie gave her an understanding look, then told the server they would take their meals to go. The server nodded and, with a sympathetic glance at Delanie, went to get containers. Delanie wondered how bad she looked.

“What can I do?” Desmond asked. He looked kind of helpless and pathetic. “I have a yellow stripe belt in Taekwondo. I could beat someone up. As long as it only involves simple blocks and breaking free from a very specific hold, I could beat someone up.”

Delanie gave a half-hearted chuckle, but shook her head. “Thanks, but no. And Marie, you don’t have to leave yet. You stay and enjoy the meal. I’ll call an Uber.”

Marie looked about to object, but Delanie shook her head. “Please.” She didn’t know what Josh would have to say to her, but she knew she didn’t want any witnesses for it.

Marie gave her a long look, then nodded. “You don’t start tweeting before I get home. I’ll know.” She tapped her phone with a pointed gel nail painted in pumpkin orange and silver swirls.

Delanie gave a reluctant nod. As she made her way to the foyer to wait for her car, she barely noticed the cheerful goodbye from the hostess or the crowd of people waiting to get in. She was too busy doomscrolling through her social media feeds, fear tightening her chest more with every post she read. The furor had already escalated to death threats.

For an innocent mistake?

The notification that her ride was there popped up. With shaky hands, she dropped her phone in her purse and went out to the car.

CHAPTER TWO

The next morning, Delanie stumbled out of her room, still in her pyjamas—shorts and a pink tank top with a cartoon cat on it. She blinked at the light streaming in through the living room window of the small but airy apartment she shared with Marie.

How can the sun be so cheerful and enthusiastic when my life is falling apart? And when I only got four hours of sleep?

Marie sat at the small dining room table in front of the balcony doors, sipping coffee and sketching in a spiral notebook, looking as put-together as usual even in no makeup, lounge pants, and a headscarf. She glanced up when Delanie walked in.

“Good morning, sunshine. Things look any better by the light of day?”

Delanie rubbed her bleary eyes and went over to the coffee pot on the counter. She grabbed a mug from the cupboard above, relieved when steam rose from the black nectar as she poured. “I don’t know yet. Is that daylight, or a spotlight on my career going up in flames?”

“Aw, girl, it ain’t that bad.” Marie pushed the notebook aside and leaned back in her chair, her hands encircling her coffee mug. “You just got to ride this thing out. If you wait long enough, the mob will forget about you and move on to their next helpless victim.”

Delanie took a sip of black coffee. “So you think I’m a helpless victim?”

“No, but they do.” Marie indicated her phone, which sat next to her notebook. “Don’t act like one, and they’ll get bored and move on.”

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