Just when she finally settled down to watch regular British citizens create four-layer cakes incorporating six kinds of buttercream, her daughter Caitlin hurtled into the family room with tears streaming down her face.
Piper’s stomach clenched. She clicked off the TV and reached for her daughter. “Honey? What’s wrong?”
Caitlin tossed her iPad into her mother’s lap and threw herself down on the couch beside her. “Look.”
Piper glanced down at a grainy image with the wordsCaitlin’s Asssuperimposed over the picture.
Her heart dropped. “What is this?”
“It’s mybutt,” Caitlin wailed.
Piper shook her head, trying to understand why her daughter’s butt was on the internet. “What?”
“From PE yesterday.” Caitlin’s voice trembled, thick with tears. “We were playing volleyball. I bent over to serve, and Alex Orlov took a picture of me from behind. And then he texted it to all the boys in my class. It’s everywhere. Someone took a screenshot and sent it to me. People are posting it on Instagram with the caption ‘Caitlin’s Ass.’”
Piper’s mouth dropped open. Then rage tore through her. “This is the most inappropriate, unacceptable, rotten—”
Caitlin’s beautiful tear-stained face silenced her.
She doesn’t need anger. She needs love. And protection.
She wrapped her arms around her daughter and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry this is happening, Caitlin. It isn’t fair. It isn’t right, and I am going to end it. Right now.”
Silently berating herself for not being tougher on the principal yesterday, she rose from the couch and headed for the small office she shared with her husband.
She should have done this the moment that boy started texting Caitlin. Bullies didn’t stop until you made them stop. Hadn’t she learned that lesson herself at nine years old?
She yanked open a desk drawer, pulled out the school directory, grabbed her purse, and returned to the family room.
“Where are you going?” Caitlin asked, her voice pitched high in alarm.
“To have a conversation with Alex Orlov’s parents.”
“Mom.No.”
“Caitlin.” She sat down and clasped her daughter’s hands, looking her straight in the eye. “This situation is escalating. The picture is bad enough, but at least you’re wearing long PE shorts and we can’t see your face, and no one is using your full name.”
But what if he starts posting deepfakes? What if he superimposes Caitlin’s face on a porn star’s body? What if he posts her full name and date of birth and address?
Her daughter’s future imploded before her eyes. Images like this could destroy a woman’s life. College admission, denied. Job interviews, withheld. And when she got old enough to start dating, the images would repel decent men and attract sick ones.
“We need this to stopnow,” Piper said firmly.
Tears streamed down Caitlin’s face. Finally, she nodded. “Okay.”
Piper pinched the bridge of her nose, forcing herself to stop reacting and startthinking.
Should she call? Or show up unannounced on their doorstep and have this conversation in person?
Knowledge was power, and she needed to know more about these people. Did they have a Toyota in the driveway or a Maserati? A modest home or a mansion? Maybe they were hardworking immigrants. Or conscientious federal employees like her and her husband and almost everyone else she knew here in the DC suburbs. Maybe they were Hill staffers or lobbyists or lawyers.
Or maybe they were something else.
Piper rose from the couch and headed for the mudroom. “You’re in charge of your sisters until I get back,” she called to Caitlin as she pulled on her shoes. “Text me with your iPad if you need anything. Or call on the landline. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
If only she knew her neighbors better. At age thirteen, Caitlin was old enough to babysit other people’s kids, but it still didn’t feel right to leave the girls alone right now.
Especially after what she’d found last night when they got home from the opening night performance ofSpongeBob.
