Proven Guilty (Treadmill III)

XVII

Life post-Hank-and-Jaxson-trials was...not bad. It wasn't bad at all.

I was determined to get through my community service as fast as possible. That was a different route than the one Rebecca took. But then again, I was the one who opted not to return to college after the trials.

I've always been a bit of a pessimist if you hadn't been able to figure that out yet. Rebecca, sometimes to her detriment, was a relentless optimist. But her name wasn't as infamous as mine was.

Picture this: it's the first day of a new semester. You're in a class where the professor has everyone go around and introduce themselves. You introduce yourself and say where you're from. Then this woman says her name, and you think, I feel like I recognize that name. So, you do a quick Google search only to discover that your new classmate had previously been on trial for murder, not once, but twice. And also spent a brief stint as a wanted fugitive.

The trials of Kennedy Abrams had been broadcast everywhere, and Rebecca Eaves had been more of an afterthought. Her story wasn't as sexy if we're being perfectly honest—despite her once-viral tell-all blog. I didn't want to return to classes in a school that would treat me as a leper, and I didn't think I would do too great in the job market if I did manage to make it through the rest of my schooling.

So, after finishing 500 hours of community service in less than three months, I booked a one-way flight to Paris and spent the ensuing almost-decade living everywhere I had ever wanted to go.

"How do you have the money for that? You didn't graduate college, you didn't have a job."

I'm well aware. And while my name wouldn't do me any favors in a classroom setting, it's incredible the kind of wonders it worked for me online.

Drew Parley became a character of mine. She was a bratty, spoiled influencer who traveled all over the world and posted the most ridiculous pictures of all the incredible places she visited. People were obsessed—here was this infamous former fugitive, now living abroad and pretending to be someone completely different. It fascinated people. And it made me rich.

I didn't miss much about the States. I missed my siblings, but Anna and Jeremy both visited me at least once a year, and usually with my mother as well. I missed Rebecca, but she was the only friend I had when I left home. Lyla, Rian, Doug...they had all slowly faded into the woodwork as my trials progressed. I didn't feel the need to rekindle any relationships once I was a free woman.

I believe that Lyla may have written for a magazine about me at some point in the past few years. But it was clout-chasing at its finest and didn't go anywhere meaningful. I don't even remember what magazine it was for.

But writing a book? No one had done that yet, at least not about me or Rebecca or Hank or Jaxson. This was something new, something that could solidify my legacy for the rest of time.

And we all know how much I like attention.

><><><

"A book?"

Rebecca shook her head as if she were a dog coming inside after a rainstorm. A book. A book about Kennedy Abrams and everything that she had put herself, Rebecca, and countless other people through, all those years ago.

Rebecca liked her life the way it was, if she were being honest. But she had also begun to get a bit bored with the cookie-cutter days she seemed to have, perpetually.

Working on something with Kennedy again could be the spark she needed to feel passionate about the things and people in her life again.

"A book." Kennedy confirmed, and Rebecca could see the glint in her eyes through the FaceTime call—it was an all-too-familiar look that brought back immediate déjà vu. Kennedy had a plan, and she wanted help. At least this time, the plan didn't appear to include anything illegal. "Do you want to work on it with me?"

Rebecca nodded immediately.

"Of course, I do. But we do live a couple thousand miles away from each other."

Kennedy shook her head.

"I'll come back for a few weeks, or maybe more."

Rebecca's eyes almost bugged out of her head. Kennedy hadn't returned to the States in over eight years. She had been adamant about never stepping foot anywhere near her home, ever again.

"Don't look at me like that." Kennedy rolled her eyes. "I'm almost 30 years old. I can visit for a few weeks."

"I'm just surprised, Ken." Rebecca replied. "It's been a long time since you were here."

Kennedy nodded, and Rebecca briefly saw the fear that her friend was trying so hard to hide.

"I know that." Kennedy said. "I know that."

The two women sat in silence for a few minutes before Rebecca heard Bradley starting to make breakfast inside their house.

"We'll figure everything out, okay Ken? I have to run."

Kennedy nodded, her expression brightening.

"Well, happy birthday you old lady. I love you."

"I love you too." Rebecca smiled. The phone screen went dark.

><><><

Kennedy put her phone down on the table in front of her, her hand shaking as it pulled away. Everything she had told Rebecca was the truth. She had been asked to write a book about everything that had happened to them. She wanted Rebecca to help her write said book. She was planning to fly out to the States to work on it.

But she had left out the second reason that she wanted—or needed—to return to the States as soon as possible.

Her phone rang and Kennedy picked it up immediately.

"Did you find anything?"

"It's all true," Brianne Hotchky's voice came through the speaker, "Elizabeth Wilcox left everything to you."

A/N: I'm sorry for the delay in this update--work continued to be busy, but we're back baby!

Katherine