11. Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven

C andy

The threat at the Odditorium loomed over me for a few days, but it faded just in time for tonight's concert.

The stage is my home. It's the one place I've always felt truly alive, truly myself. But tonight, as I step up to the microphone and look out at the sea of faces illuminated by the soft glow of the stage lights, I feel something different. Something new.

I feel… whole.

It's the thrill of performing, the rush of adrenaline that comes from baring my soul to a room full of strangers. It's the knowledge that I'm doing what I love, what I was born to do.

My songs pour out of me tonight as I fill them with nuances I'd never felt before. I allow the music to carry me away, and by doing that, the audience feels it, too. They hear me, really hear me. And for the first time in my life, I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I am enough. Just as I am.

I'm still riding that high as I practically skip off the stage, my body vibrating with the aftershocks of adrenaline and joy. Courage is waiting for me, his hoodie pulled over his head and his arms already open. I launch myself into his embrace with a breathless laugh.

"Did you see that?" I ask, my words muffled against his chest. "Did you feel it?"

"I felt it." His voice is a warm rumble, his lips brushing the top of my head. "You were amazing out there. You fucking shone."

I tilt my head back to look at him, my smile so wide it makes my cheeks ache. "I couldn't have done it without you. Knowing you were there, believing in me… it made all the difference."

His eyes soften as he cradles my cheek in his palm. "I'll always believe in you, Candy. Always."

Reality has a way of intruding, and all too soon, a polite cough from somewhere behind me reminds me we're not alone. Reluctantly, I pull away, turning to face the source of the interruption.

It's a woman, tall and slender with a sleek bob of silver hair and piercing blue eyes. She carries herself with an air of authority, her tailored pantsuit and sensible heels practically screaming "professional."

"Ms. Wood?" Her voice is cool, crisp. "I'm Eleanor Baker, one of the producers of Broken Starlets. Might I have a word?"

I feel Courage tense behind me, his hand tightening on my hip. But I give his hand a reassuring pat as I give the woman a polite but guarded smile.

"Ms. Baker, hello. I'm afraid I'm not doing any interviews at the moment."

"Oh, this isn't an interview." She waves a dismissive hand. "Think of it more as… a conversation. An opportunity."

I frown. Something about her tone sets my teeth on edge. "An opportunity for what, exactly?"

"To tell your story." Her eyes bore into mine, intense and unwavering. "To join your voice with the brave women who have already come forward, to help us expose the truth about what really happened at KEN."

A chill runs down my spine, my stomach twisting with a sickening combination of dread and distrust. Part of me wants to run, to hide, to bury my head in the sand and pretend that none of it ever happened.

But another part of me, a stronger part… wants to fight. Wants to stand up and speak out, to use my platform and my privilege to make a difference.

To finally, finally let the truth set me free.

I take a deep breath as I stand straighter. "I appreciate the offer, Ms. Baker. But I'm not sure I'm ready to…"

"There may not be a later." She cuts me off, her voice sharp. "Time is of the essence, Candy. Every day that passes, your abusers grow more insulated, more untouchable, more bold. Hashtag Me Too is ancient history. A few people were prosecuted, but the system hasn't changed. We need your voice. We need your strength."

I hesitate, torn. But before I can respond, Courage steps forward, his presence solid and reassuring at my back.

"What my client means," his voice is low and firm, "is that she needs time to consider your request. This isn't a decision to be made lightly."

Eleanor Baker's eyes narrow, her lips thinning. But she nods, reaching into her bag to pull out a sleek black business card. "Of course. I understand." She hands me the card, her fingers cool and dry against mine. "But Candy… don't wait too long. The world needs to hear your truth. This isn't just for Samantha Adair, Veronica Trudeau, and the others. It's for you . You deserve to be free of this burden, once and for all."

With that, she turns on her heel and walks away, leaving me standing there with my heart in my throat and Courage's warmth at my back.

"Hey." He turns me gently to face him, his eyes searching mine. "You okay?"

Letting out a shaky breath, I lean into him. "I… I don't know. I thought I was ready, but now… especially after that text…"

"Shh, it's okay." He pulls me into his arms, rocking me gently. "You don't have to decide anything right now. This is your story, your choice. No one else gets to make the decision for you."

That's just the problem. I don't know what to decide. All I know is that this situation is terrifying whether I shut up and say nothing, or if I spill it all in front of the camera.