“I still might not be able to prove it. Plagiarism is the hardest thing to prove in this industry.”
“All you need to do is cast doubt, right?” Phoebe asked quietly. “Isn’t that what you’re worried about for your own reputation? What if you turn it around on him?”
“It’s my word against his.”
“Dammit, Dutch. How can you believe that your word wouldn’t be above his? You’re the talent.”
“And he’s bleeding money.” Lance cut in. “I don’t have the hacking skills of some of my friends, but I did a little deep dive. The last book he sold was yours. Until this Lana chick. Maybe he’s not doing as amazing as two houses and an Instagram lifestyle that shows him flying all over the place.”
“He’ll get paid in the same increments as I am.”
“Then change your contract.”
“It’s not that easy, Phoebe.”
“It is if you go to your publisher. If you actually talk to them and ask them for help.”
I paced away from her. Could I even chance it?
Everything I worked for could fall apart if I was wrong.
Phoebe turned back to her brother. “Can you look at his laptop? See what you can do?”
“You’re damn right I will.”
I whirled around. “Why the hell would you help me?”
“First of all, you’re my favorite author. The idea that some other author is going to publish your words under their nameenrages me more than it even seems to burn your ass. And second, you’re Phoebe’s. Period.”
Phoebe twisted her fingers. “Please, Dutch. Just try.”
I stalked over to the table and put my logins into the computer. “Do it. I can’t watch.”
“Take him outside, Phee. I’ll comb through every fucking file on your cloud servers, but I’ll find something to help.”
I escaped the basement, the squeak of the stairs under my feet propelling me forward. I just needed space. And air. And to not think about all the years I spent building up my career only to have it crash around me. For what?
I slipped outside and walked around the house, the fresh scent of rain filling my chest.
A happy bark had me crouching down as the full force hit of fur and delirious panting pushed out some of the blanket of sadness that sat on my shoulders. Mouse leaned hard into me until I almost fell over. I wrapped an arm around his neck.
“I’m sorry.”
I closed my eyes as Phoebe wrapped around the both of us. “For money.”
“I know.”
“If he needed money, I would have given it. I have more than I’ll ever spend in a lifetime.”
“You know it’s not just money.”
The sureness in her voice added to the loss that crumbled from under the anger I’d been holding onto for months. Christopher had been my family. Realizing that all the years it had been us against the world was the real illusion was worse than the theft.
And that grief was the most staggering part.
Phoebe laid her head against my shoulder. “You’re not alone. You’ll never be alone again.”
How did she know?
