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Me: You know this isn’t over, right?
Bridget: I know.
Evidence Item #181–b
Submitting Agent: Tim Rollins
Case Number: NF-2000-PR-0856478
Item #: 181–b
Description of Enclosed Evidence: Journal, 2022
Victim’s Full Name: Bridget Lynn Hayes
Suspect’s Full Name: Julianne Katheryn Fournier
September 14, 2022
I have already filed a complaint with the chief for all the harassment I’ve received from police. They can’t treat me like this. Now, there’s an order in place for me to give a DNA sample. They also want one from Birdie. Too bad she just moved out. Maybe if they were better at their jobs they could locate her, but everyone over there is completely incompetent. Don’t they realize I pay their salary? To think I had something to do with that murder is laughable. Do they have any idea how much I’ve done for Birdie? What about what I’ve had to go through? I did nothing wrong. These people have no idea who they are messing with.
THIRTY-THREE
Job hunting was a good distraction from the pain. There are enough restaurants in the metro area that need chefs, so I have a few options. My top choice is Alloy. It’s a trendy restaurant that offers a pop-up style menu—something like that is perfect for me since there are so many more opportunities to play around in the kitchen and present new ideas to the executive chef. On top of that, I can work in a variety of cuisines at the same location. It’s an awesome concept, but I wish I could be more excited about it.
I impress them with my cooking demo during the interview and am thrilled to accept their offer. Once I get my first pay stub—and some insurance—I’ll be able to sign a lease. I’ve got my eye on an apartment within walking distance to the restaurant; it’s not available yet, but there’s a tenant moving out soon. I told the restaurant manager it would be a couple of weeks before I could join the team, and I’m very appreciative of their patience with my start date. There are a few other things I need to take care of first.
I wish I could tell Lonan about everything. We’ve had the occasional text here and there. And the moment at Maddie’s recital. I can’t stop myself from checking in on him online. I need to stop because every time I find a photo he’s tagged in, he’s not alone. There’s a woman with him, though never the same one. It’s a push and pull of wanting him back and wanting to give up. But that’s why I meet with my therapist multiple times a week.
In the beginning, therapy was difficult. I’m not good at asking for help. But I noticed a pattern of behavior in myself, and it’s not healthy. I don’t think I even realized it existed until Lonan pointed it out so bluntly. I do cut and run. If there’s one thing Julianne taught me is that to avoid getting hurt, you hit first. I know there’s a lot of baggage to go through, but I always thought trying to go through it was useless. Better to just set the whole thing on fire and walk away. Therapy can’t go back and change what has happened, but it’s not about changing the past. It’s how I react in the present. I’m putting in the work and am learning how to accept love.
Unfortunately, as soon as I used Bridget Hayes on my paperwork, it didn’t take long for the media to catch up with me. The phone has been ringing nonstop for interviews. I had to get a new private number. I don’t need the attention right now. I’m trying to get my life back on track, and it’s not something I enjoy talking about.
The local news has gotten involved, but now national news and morning shows are sending reporters to my parents’ house and blowing up their phones. Their networks’ resources are endless. I’ve decided the only way to get through this is to give them what they want so I can become old news, and they’ll move on to something else.
I’m thankful my dad is here to help me navigate contact with all the broadcast networks. We have a family lawyer that’s been incredibly helpful too. I’m not yet used to the level of encouragement from my family, but it’s another thing I’m working on in therapy.
After much back and forth, we will release the story with one of the national news shows,Headline. I’m told they have the most respectful, least exploitative interviews. Quite an accolade, “least exploitative.” I meet withHeadline’s host, Charlotte Stanard, in two days. They are flying the whole family to the film studio. Our lawyer has sent over some things we are willing to discuss and what we’re not. I’m trying to get packed up for the trip, and this whole thing feels surreal. Thankfully, I still have a therapy appointment before we leave for New York City.
By next week, I will have gotten a job, moved into an apartment, interviewed on national TV, and have left the man I love. My hair is falling out because of the stress. My life is in a tailspin, but at least I’m trying to pull up this time. I want a vacation, but that would just be an escape. I need to learn not to run away from things when they get hard.
I wish Lonan were with me. He had become such a close friend and confidant. I want to text or call him constantly. I miss hearing about his day and how he’s feeling. It hurt when I saw photos of the team out partying. He didn’t seem too upset to have a woman’s hands all over him, whispering into his ear. The big smile on his face made his feelings apparent. Those are the consequences of my actions, and I will live with them forever. Although I’m hurt he moved on so quickly, I hate my jealousy over that photo. This is what I wanted, right? This is what I told him to do. I pushed him into this.
I shake the thoughts from my mind. No, those are simply negative thoughts. I repeat my positive messages to myself.
I release my past and am ready to accept people into my life.
I deserve fulfilling, authentic relationships.
I am letting love into my life.
* * *
Flying into New York City is bananas. We have been put up in the most luxurious hotels and have eaten at some of the most famous restaurants in the city. I’ve even had the chance to meet a few of the head chefs and see their kitchen operations. It’s incredible. Unfortunately, now comes the part I’m not looking forward to—the big interview.
Walking into the studio, I take a moment to think how different my life was just six months ago. The story has been released, and my picture was plastered all over the internet last week, but this is the first time I’ve sat down to do a nationwide interview.
I didn’t realize the real Elizabeth Fournier had been murdered until I opened the journals. When I read her words, it made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. It made me sick. Julianne lacked empathy and cared for no one but herself. I’m learning that her lack of love wasn’t because I was unlovable; it’s because she didn’t have the capacity to love. There wasn’t a person inside. She was a monster. The majority of my life was spent in the care of a child murderer. A few wrong steps and I could have had the same fate as Elizabeth. Instead, I survived by forgetting my family and keeping my head down. I was obedient and lonely, but it kept me alive.
