Page 2 of The Followers

Liv wishes she could call her sister and warn her that Sam is on his way, but she doesn’t have a cell phone and the landline is in the kitchen. Gran might still be there.

If she’s honest, Liv has to admit that she’s been worried about her sister lately. She’s been struggling ever since her father died a year ago. Unlike Liv and Ollie, Kristina had a loving, involved dad, and losing him devastated her. She used to have a brightness about her—almost like she was glowing inside—but now all the light seems to have drained out of her.

Liv shifts her weight, rolling on her side in bed. Gran’s words to Kristina echo in her mind—You wanna turn out like your mother?—but Liv brushes them away. Kristina is nothing like their mother. It hasn’t been an easy year for her, that’s all. Grieving her father. Raising a baby on her own. Fighting with her ex-boyfriend. She just needs a break, Liv tells herself as she closes her eyes.

Tomorrow, she’ll call her sister and offer to take Gabriela for the day. Maybe Gran will let Gabriela stay overnight, so Kristina can get some uninterrupted rest.

Tomorrow, Liv promises herself before falling asleep, she’ll call her sister.

But the next morning, while Liv and Ollie are sitting at the kitchen table eating scrambled eggs, there will be a knock at the door. When Gran opens it, Liv will catch a glimpse of a uniformed police officer and a detective in a dark suit. She will set her fork down and come to the door, where the detective will give her and Gran the news:

Kristina is dead. And Gabriela is gone.

Nine years later

one

I am the openest book in the history of open books.

@InvincibleMollySullivan

Few situations are more humbling than a pelvic exam—flat on your back, feet in the stirrups, paper gown riding up your thighs, the doctor urging “Scoot down, don’t be shy!” Molly Sullivan usually powered through by telling herself that at least no one else was there to see it. Today, however, this experience would be witnessed by her closest friends.

All 2.7 million of them.

The setting: her gynecologist’s office. The cast: a ruddy-faced cameraman named Pete, a clog-wearing director named Candice, and Molly’s grandmotherly OB-GYN. The props: latex gloves, packets of lube, the longest Q-tip Molly had ever seen, and several metal speculums.

Speculums, or specula? she wondered idly. And who had designed them to look so much like a duckbill?

Focus, she told herself. Soon the entire world would have a front-row seat to one of the most intimate medical evaluations in a woman’s life. Sure, Molly had shared plenty of embarrassing moments online, like the time she’d confused her eyelash serum with eyelash extension glue and spent two days with one eyelid sealed shut. But nothing like this, and never on such a grand scale.

Candice glanced at Pete. “Ready?”

“Go live on my count,” he said, nodding. “Three, two, and...” One, he mouthed, pointing at Molly.

“Hello, Invincibles!” she said into the camera a few feet from her face. “I’m partnering today with TKR Pharmaceuticals, a company at the forefront of developing immunotherapy for cervical cancer, and the American Cervical Cancer Coalition. As we know, to catch cervical cancer at an early stage, it’s imperative to get screening done. So I’m here in my gynecologist’s office for my Pap smear and exam. Say hi, Dr. Kallepalli!”

Dr. Kallepalli, near the drapes on Molly’s thighs, waved. The usually calm gynecologist had an expression on her face somewhere between “deer in the headlights” and “deer hit by a truck and bleeding out on the side of the road.” Molly made a mental note to send her a massive bunch of flowers when this was over.

The doctor had readily agreed to participate when Molly asked—declining all compensation, saying it was part of her mission to educate the public—but there was no way to prepare her for the experience of being on a live-streamed video with a following the size of Molly’s. Per the view counter, twenty thousand people had joined. A strong start and growing quickly.

“Two weeks ago,” Molly continued, her confidence returning as she settled into her groove, “I learned that one of my closest friends had been diagnosed with cervical cancer.” Ayla, a fellow influencer and curator of the popular platform Single Mom By Choice, was thirty-three, just two years older than Molly. Ayla had an excellent prognosis with treatment, but Molly still felt shaken up by the news and compelled to act.

“I realized it’s been three years since my last Pap smear. I’d never dream of missing a doctor appointment for Clover, but it’s easy to forget to take care of myself. Dr. Kallepalli, can you explain why this is so important?”

Pete turned the camera back on the gynecologist, who settled into her doctor role as she spoke about internal exams, breast exams, and Pap smears.

Molly closed her eyes. The lights were giving her a headache, and she needed to save her smile. Even with years of experience on social media, she wasn’t used to camera crews. Most of her video spots were filmed at home using her phone and felt like chatting one on one with a friend. This, by comparison, was a production.

“We’re going to get started,” Dr. Kallepalli said, rolling her stool between Molly’s outstretched legs.

Molly fought the impulse to squeeze her knees together. “The whole point of this video is to break the stigma about getting these exams,” she said into the camera. “It’s part of life as a person with a uterus, and it shouldn’t be something we feel secretive about—”

“You’ll feel cold gel and my fingers,” Dr. Kallepalli said, and then, yes, indeed Molly did feel that.

“It’s important that we advocate for our own health,” Molly continued. “I know this isn’t the sexiest I’ve ever looked in my life, but taking care of our bodies is sexy—”

“You’ll feel pressure deep inside,” Dr. Kallepalli said, and yep-yep- yep that was some significant pressure right there, doc. “Now I’ll insert the speculum.”

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