Chapter 30

HANNAH

While my meeting with Michael yesterday had helped alleviate some of my worries, I’d still woken at 5 a.m., my mind whirring with everything that had happened in the past few days. Thinking about the information I’d so carefully protected being out there in the world, against my will, made me feel ill. I couldn’t stop mulling over who could have exposed my identity, mentally listing everyone who knew about my pseudonym and any motives they might have for revealing it. Each time I thought of George and Blake, I quickly skipped over them, not willing to even contemplate that they might have been involved.

My gut twisted with nerves as I walked back to my publisher’s office building to meet with Emma and the publicity team for our midday meeting.

“Excuse me!” A woman in her twenties, wearing loose jeans and a cropped red t-shirt, walked toward me, holding her phone.

My whole body tensed. Oh shit. Had she recognized me? I braced myself.

“Do you know where the Rockefeller Center is?” she asked. “My phone just died.”

Breathing out, I gave her some quick directions and wished her luck, feeling like an idiot.

I was relieved to see Emma’s familiar face in the lobby, but we barely had time to greet each other before my publicist, Rosie, appeared and we followed her into an elevator.

“It’s good to see you both,” she said smiling, after she’d pushed the button for the thirty-fifth floor. “And thanks again for signing all those pre-orders, Hannah. Some of them were accidentally delivered a day or two early, but it’s been good from a publicity perspective. I saw one fan did a TikTok about the drawing of a book you did next to your signature. That was such a cute idea.”

Despite my nerves, I couldn’t help smiling at the memory of the book George had helped me draw after my pen had slipped that night at Novel Gossip. I was glad the recipient had appreciated it.

The elevator doors opened and Rosie ushered us into a small meeting room overlooking Broadway.

After exchanging pleasantries with Rosie”s boss, Lucy, who was waiting for us in the room, we took our seats.

Lucy leaned forward, furrowing her brow. “First, I just wanted to say how sorry we are about your identity being made public.” Her face relaxed, and her tone brightened as she continued. “But on the plus side, the timing couldn’t have been more perfect from a publicity perspective with The Realm of Furies just being released. It’s really helped increase interest in the book. We’ve had a lot of media reach out to us, asking if you’d be available for interviews, and Emma has been fielding similar requests. I know this wasn’t how you wanted things to play out, but agreeing to some of these requests would be amazing publicity for The Realm of Furies.” Lucy’s eyes flashed with excitement. “I mean, we’re talking Good Morning America, NPR, The New York Times…opportunities most authors would kill for. Now that everyone knows who you are, you don’t have a lot to lose. I’ve printed out a list of media offers and put stars next to the ones I think we should definitely accept. Just let me know which ones you’re comfortable with, and we can set them up.”

I stared at her, lost for words. The whole point of this meeting was to talk about how best to protect my privacy, not to completely blow it up. What the hell was Lucy thinking?

Maybe without Tania—who was so highly regarded—going in to fight for me anymore, the publicity team thought they could get away with this.

I frowned as a thought struck me. Had Lucy or Rosie leaked my identity? As Lucy had just said, the timing had been perfect from a publicity perspective. Anger welled in my stomach at the thought. I took a deep breath in an attempt to calm myself. I had no proof it had been them and I didn’t want to derail the purpose of the meeting, which was to minimize the fallout of the leak, with unsubstantiated accusations. Better to wait until the outcome of the internal investigation Michael mentioned.

Emma shot me a concerned look. “Do you want me to speak?”

I shook my head. “No, it’s okay. I’ve got it.”

I looked Lucy squarely in the face. “Lucy, I’m not going to do any interviews. My identity may be out there now, but I still want to keep a low profile. Agreeing to these would just attract more attention, which is exactly what I’m trying to avoid. I set up this meeting to talk about how to minimize the fallout from my privacy being breached, not capitalize on it. I know you want The Realm of Furies to do well, and so do I, but I’m not willing to sacrifice my privacy to achieve it. In any event, I understand that pre-orders and interest from booksellers was strong even before my identity was leaked, so clearly The Realm of Furies can speak for itself.” I kept my voice steady and polite but assertive.

Lucy made one more attempt at trying to convince me to at least do the Good Morning America appearance, but being on national television was literally my worst nightmare, so I didn’t have any trouble rejecting the suggestion forcefully and changing the topic to focus on my key area of concern, which was the exact opposite of Lucy’s: how to reduce attention on me.

By the end of the meeting, we had a standard response for Emma and my publisher to use when turning down interview requests, and Lucy had reluctantly agreed that her team wouldn’t engage with any social media posts about my identity or provide any further information about me. My official author bio would continue to only mention my pen name.

Michael was leaning against a wall, waiting, as we exited the meeting room. Huh. I wonder what he’s doing here. “Hannah and Emma, do you have a few minutes? I wanted to talk to you about the leak.”

I swallowed, my mind racing. Did Michael know who it was? Shit. If he’d found out who it was, that probably meant it was an inside job. Maybe it had been Tania? Or Lucy or Rosie? Or was Michael about to confess himself? As usual, Michael’s facial expression gave nothing away.

Michael waited for Lucy and Rosie to leave the room and then led Emma and me back in, gesturing for us to sit.

Once we were seated, he cleared his throat.

“So, we discovered the source of the leak.” Michael shifted on his seat.

I stared at him expectantly, willing him to go on.

He cleared his throat again and then tugged at his collar. Okay, he’s definitely uncomfortable about something.

“So, who was it?” I blurted out, the suspense killing me.

“It was, uh…you.” Michael grimaced.

I blinked. What?

“Me?” I squeaked, confusion swirling though my mind. How could it have been me?

“Um, yes. One of the assistants called the journalist who broke the story. They were tipped off by a video on TikTok from a reader who’d pre-ordered The Realm of Furies and had been confused to discover that it been signed by H. M. Taylor rather than H. M. Stuart. The journalist Googled your real name, saw your degree and The New York Times wedding announcement about you and Tania getting married, and put two and two together.”

Blood drained out of my face, and I grasped the table for support as Michael’s comments sunk in.

Shit. I’d been so tired the night that I’d signed all the books at Novel Gossip, it wasn’t surprising I’d made a mistake. I wondered how many books I’d mistakenly signed using my legal name. I winced.

“Oh my god,” I murmured.

“Are you okay?” Emma asked softly, putting a hand on my arm.

“I feel so stupid,” I said, heat rising again up my cheeks. I’d been suspecting everyone else of being at fault. I never stopped to consider it could be me. If I hadn’t put off telling George who I really was and had signed the books as planned on the first day I arrived at Novel Gossip, I was sure I would never have made that mistake. Talk about karma.

“Hey, everyone makes mistakes,” Emma said, patting my back.

I turned to Michael. “I’m so sorry about wasting your time with the investigation.”

“That’s fine. It was no problem at all,” he responded.

I walked out of the office with Emma and Michael in a daze.

Once Emma and I were alone in the elevator, Emma turned to me, eyes wide. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m really annoyed at myself. I protected my real name for so many years, so the fact that I blew it all up with a silly mistake is…” I trailed off, lost for words.

“Hey, don’t be too hard on yourself. You’ve gone through a lot recently,” Emma said, gently.

I gave her a weak smile. “On the plus side, at least the whole thing was a mistake, and not malicious, and I can stop wondering who was behind it.”

My attempt to put a positive spin on the news must not have been convincing, because Emma eyed me with concern. “Why don’t we grab lunch?” she asked.

I glanced at my watch. All I wanted was to call George and tell her what had happened. But it was just past 1 p.m., and she’d still be deep in the lunch rush.

“That would be great,” I replied, grateful for some company after Michael’s bombshell news. Hopefully Emma’s presence would stop me from spiraling into self-admonition.