Page 3 of The Followers

Molly heard several clicks and struggled not to cringe. She had pushed a baby out—an eight-pound, seven-ounce baby—so this should be nothing, right?

But there was something so invasive about it. The cold metal, the slippery gloves, the crinkling paper under her backside. Not that she was going to tell her followers that. This was all about encouraging them to make their own appointments, not a description of the stretch-stretch-stretching—

“Aaaaaaand the speculum is in!” Molly said, flashing what she hoped was more smile than grimace at the camera. Camera Guy Pete’s face went beet red.

“I’m preparing to take the sample,” Dr. Kallepalli said, calm and soothing. “We collect cells from your cervix to analyze. You might feel a slight pinch...”

More like significant scraping, Molly thought. Like rubbing a cheese grater over your knuckle. An abrasive slide, then stinging, and—relief.

Molly smiled at the camera. “Not so bad!”

Comments scrolled across the monitor, the reactions of viewers. Over ninety thousand people now. The largest reach Molly had ever achieved while live.

amelia cho You’re so brave, Molly! Thanks for doing this.

kailyn o’connell My favorite aunt died of cervical cancer so this is incredibly meaningful to me.

adam engelen Ngl, that looks horrifying af

Molly tried not to wince as the speculum shifted inside her. Next step: respond to the comments, make the viewers feel like they were part of this experience.

“Amelia, thanks so much for watching. Hi, Kailyn! So deeply sorry to hear about your aunt. I can’t imagine how difficult that was. Adam—take a deep breath, honey. The women in your life need your support. And guess what? It’s over!”

Dr. Kallepalli rolled away from Molly’s thighs and stripped off her gloves with a satisfying pop. “You did great, Molly. Why don’t you sit up and we’ll talk about what to expect next.”

Molly shuffled back on the exam table, grateful to have her feet out of the stirrups. The paper stuck to her skin, and she hoped that her gown and drapes stayed in place so nothing R-rated was exposed. That might shoot the view counter up even higher, but she had no interest in that kind of attention—despite the critics who liked to call her out for having no boundaries.

As Dr. Kallepalli explained the standard medical recommendations on cervical cancer screening, Molly’s mind drifted. She’d promised her four-year-old daughter that once she finished this live stream, they’d go to the park and play, just the two of them. But after that, there would be nothing on her agenda except going home. To her husband.

Just thinking the word made her smile. Scott had been gone for two nights, and Molly was bursting with excitement at the thought of seeing him. Would that ever fade, she wondered? She hoped not, but they’d only been married a month, still very much in the honeymoon phase.

The doctor finished, and Molly refocused her attention on the camera.

“Thanks so much for joining me today,” she began. “I hope you’ve learned something new—even if it’s just that you should wear cozy socks to your gyn appointments so your feet don’t freeze in the stirrups.”

One hundred and sixty-seven thousand people were watching now, and Molly reminded herself to imagine them as individuals. Mothers, daughters, friends, sisters, and wives with their own hopes, dreams, and fears. All tuning in, looking to her for advice.

“Our bodies come in different sizes, shapes, colors, and abilities,” Molly said. “It’s easy to fall into the trap of comparing ourselves to someone in a magazine or on Instagram, to think we need to look like that in order to be happy. That’s false, friends. Our bodies are our homes. Our sanctuaries. Today, I’m recommitting to treating mine with respect. Make an appointment to see your doctor to talk about cervical cancer screening. It took a wake-up call from my friend to get me in here, and I hope this will be a wake-up call for you. Now, go be invincible!”

Candice smiled, flashing a thumbs-up as Pete turned off the live stream. “And... that’s a wrap.”

two

Here’s the thing about posting something online: once it’s out there, you can never take it back. It belongs to the world now, not just to you.

@InvincibleMollySullivan

In a shaded playground near the edge of a neighborhood park, Liv Barrett sat on a sticky metal bench, trying not to make it too obvious that she was watching Molly Sullivan.

Molly had seemed ordinary enough at first glance. Her wavy blond hair and freckles gave her a girl-next-door look, and she wasn’t doing anything unusual, just pushing her daughter on a swing, sending the little girl squealing and soaring through the sunshine-filled morning.

But there was something about her, some unseen force that drew the eye. And it wasn’t just Liv who thought so, judging by the other playground parents who had chatted with her in the past half-hour. Liv supposed it was that essence of celebrity, the same force that drew millions to follow this woman’s online presence.

Liv took a shaky breath to calm her nerves, then pretended to sip from her empty coffee cup. She felt awkward and out of place among these doting parents and their children. Her eyes kept filling with tears, and she was grateful for her sunglasses.

Not long ago, the name Molly Sullivan had meant nothing to Liv, who didn’t care much about the world of social media influencers. That changed when Liv took a temporary position at a physical therapy clinic and learned that several of her fellow PTs were huge fans; they called themselves Invincibles and followed Molly religiously. It seemed like every conversation—at lunch, on breaks—revolved around Molly’s latest posts, videos, and her new book. Even though Liv wasn’t interested, it was impossible to avoid seeing Molly’s face on their phone screens or hearing her voice share some funny, inspirational anecdote.

Then one month ago, Liv had walked in the break room to see them all gushing over a picture Molly had posted with her new husband. A cursory glance at her coworker’s phone, and Liv froze. She knew him.

---