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I’m flipping through it fast and furiously, and when I get to one page, Skye puts her hand on it. “Stop.” Then she points at the picture. “Look, there’s your ring!”
There’s a drawing that looks an awful lot like my ring. The text says,
This rare sapphire was placed in a specially designed setting for Lady Catrina Laire before her wedding day in 1403. In 1421, during the massacre of the entire royal family, the ring was cut from the Lady’s finger by thieves. Then, it was lost.
“Oh, no!” I cry out. Iworethat thing. Eek!
Skye shrugs. “How about you keep your one precious piece of jewelry, and I’ll keep mine.”
Um, how about no. But I don’t want to fight with her again, so I say, “Discussion for later.”
After some more flipping and reading, we find the entry that Grams had yearned to find for so many years. I shiver. Isobel says,
After the massacre, I was the only remaining soul in the castle left alive. I hid, and they weren’t looking for a peasant scullery maid. My pa prepared me well for this moment. In the night, while they slept off a drunken stupor, I slashed their throats. Aye—they deserved what I gave them. I’m carrying the bairn of the eldest prince. And by Scottish law, if every legitimate royal is deceased, the throne goes to the oldest illegitimate son with royal blood. Since there are no known others, my unborn son, Edward Galloway, will take his rightful place on the throne.
“It was a woman—and the maid!” Skye cries out.
I hate that I wish Maddox was here. But I do, and he would love every second of this. This is a better ending than we could’vewritten ourselves! My voice trembles when I whisper, “Itwasthe maid. In the parlor. With a knife.”
28
Reel of Truth
I’ve been back in the States for over a week, and I’m living in Skye’s Winnebago—The Windworm 2000—at least for now. It’s in the wooded area behind Billy’s mansion, and it’s been healing to be out in nature, spending time in the perfect fall weather—taking jogs, walking, or just sitting outside and breathing the air. I’ve also spent time at Sophie’s with Eva, Skye, and West, and it’s been comforting to be surrounded by those who care for me so much and are empathetic to what I’m going through. They’ve been nothing but supportive since I’ve started therapy.
It’s different than I thought it would be. The therapist doesn’t give me answers, but she asks me the right questions so I can figure out what I need to help myself.
I contacted the Scotland Historical Society and had their teams remove the items with proper care. Before I left, I brought in the authorities to create a list and take photos of each item in the hidden library, so there was a record of everything in there.
Now, it’s all been handed over to the country of Scotland to assess, preserve, and place into a museum…even my ring.Especiallythat ring.
Yes, my parents need help, but auctioning off historical treasures is not the right way to help the family. I’ll sell the castle if I have to. Or, I’ll just have to keep working hard and doing what I’m doing. Something else will come along.
As far as my therapy, it’s helping. And my first step is to take control of my own narrative. For me, that means doing daily videos of me being, well…me.
It’s my space where I can do whatever I want with the mean things people say about me. Namely, poking fun of it: which is what I’m about to do now.
Skye walks in the door, fashionably late but all smiles. “You ready?”
“I’m zenned out and my face is au natural. Ready to go.”
“Good.” She nods. “I’m here if you need anything.”
“Thank you.” I take a deep breath and turn on my computer camera, announcing that I’ll be going live soon. I wait for the viewers to log in, and then when it’s time, I smile at the screen, makeup-free, as I say, “Hi, everyone. It’s Riley, and welcome to my life. Myreallife where I show you what my days are like. I’m up, showered, and in my running clothes. Because after I take in the daily news, I have to go for a run to help me digest it. So now, you’re going to be reading my news with me.“ I hold up my phone to show them what’s on the screen. “Today’s fun news article is fromLove Buzz, and the title is, ‘RILEY THE LIAR GOING DOWN IN A BALL OF FIRE.’”
I put my phone down and look straight into the camera. “I’ve seen better headlines, but good job on the rhyming. Regardless, Ihavelied. I lied to you, to all my fans. I also lied to my friends, my family, and myself. That’s all on me, and I couldn’t be more sorry.“ I swallow hard, shooting Skye a look. When she givesme a thumbs up and a teary smile, I continue. “But it wasn’t so simple. My role inUrban Dawnwasn’t permanent, so if I didn’t bring in the ratings or play the game, I was out. It was so much pressure. Too much, and I felt it piling on, hard and fast. Desperate people make desperate decisions, and I went along with it all because I was terrified of losing everything. Funny—I lost everything, anyway.“ I clear my throat. “I thought that’s what I had to do to make my dream come true.” I hesitate, shaking my head. “But what I realized is that it doesn’t matter if fans love me if I don’t love myself. I can’t be something I’m not. Because I’m a person, just like you, with flaws, insecurities, grief, and heartbreak. I want to find love, real love, just like you. I want someone who’ll share everything with me. And I want to go back to being the adventure-seeker I used to be before all this started. I couldn’t live my dream when I wasn’t living the truth. So this is me and my truth.” I exhale a cleansing breath. “And just to clear a few things up: no, I’m not a stripper, nor have I ever been one. Although I support that career a thousand percent if it works for you. No, I’m not an alien, at least not that I’m aware of. No, I don’t have three tits. I mean, really, people. Please stop coming after women like this—you’re better than that. And yes, I have a strained relationship with my parents. And it’s a long, complicated thing that has nothing to do with me lying to them. It has nothing to do with how bad of an actress I am, or how bad of an actress y’all think I am. It’s much more of the standard vanilla thing where I chose the career path they begged me not to. And in a way, after everything I’ve been through, I see their point. They didn’t want me to be in the spotlight because it’s a place where the highs are very high and the lows are very low. It’s a place where you have to grow a very thick skin. And they knew me: I’m soft-shelled, always have been. They love me and were looking out for me, and for that, I thank them.”
I take a moment, thinking as the camera rolls. With these videos, I’m embracing the awkward pauses because that’s what real life is about.
I nod. “But we’re working through our issues. And I’m working through mine too. I don’t want to be swallowed whole by the media machine that manufactures lies to sell ad space. So if what you read is really happening to me, I’ll tell you here. Because I don’t have secrets, not anymore, and I don’twantto have secrets, so…“ I throw up my hands. “Here I am. No makeup. No costumes. No stories. I’m Riley Glenn, and I love funky, gourmet tacos, like the ones with peanut sauce or beer-battered cauliflower. Oh! Or the ones with tikka masala and fried paneer. I love hanging out with my friends. I love movies, so many of them. Favorites includeWhen Harry Met SallyandThe Shawshank Redemption. As an actor, I live for those moments when the message from my character’s heart resonates so much it makes you cry. When it compels you to ask deeper, meaningful questions about yourself. Or when it makes you say, ‘Hey, that’s me. Thank you for showing the world what I’m going through.’“ My eyes mist as I smile at the thought. “It doesn’t happen often, but when it does, it’s pure magic. For you and for me. And that’s why I’ll never stop. So, that’s me, in a nutshell. Or a taco shell. I’d love to hear from you. Tell me your favorite taco in the comments.”
I turn off the camera, and I’m shocked by how many heart emojis float up on the screen. There’s an outpouring of encouraging words from people who care about me. Or at least care about me as an actor and what I can do for them on the screen. And I’m so lucky.
Plus, I’m getting a growing list of taco flavors, which makes me laugh.
Then I see a comment from Maddox. When I click on it, it says, “Proud of you, Rook. The most honest, cool, real, andempathetic woman I know—Riley Glenn. I admire your grit and strength, and I can’t wait to see more from you, unfiltered. Also, I’m sorry I never took you to eat funky tacos. I didn’t know. Regrets.”
I’m pretty sure I put that on the list. Didn’t I? I smile, and I can’t believe it. I have Maddox Winter as a fan.
