Page 137 of Take Me Away

I throw the phone across the room. It hits the wall, clatters to the floor.

Jude’s tea comes back up. I barely make it to the bathroom.

When I’m done retching, I sit on the cold tiles, head in my hands, trying to breathe.

Did he drug her?

He fucking drugged her and took photos and now⁠—

Now the whole world is seeing them.

The Daily Mail. Instagram. Reddit.

I force myself off the floor, rinse my mouth, splash water on my face. My reflection in the mirror looks like a stranger. Pale. Hollow. Older than I was ten minutes ago.

I retrieve the phone from where it landed. Screen’s cracked but still works.

The article is from the Daily Mail. Posted at 5 am. Marcus Vale’s team issued a statement: ‘Ms. Quinn was a willing participant in our relationship. These photos prove her recent allegations are false and vindictive. We will be pursuing legal action for defamation.’

Willing participant. I can’t help myself; I scan the top image again.

I want to put my fist through the wall.

The comments section is a sewer. Hundreds of people – thousands – weighing in on Isla’s body, her choices, whether she’s lying or not.

Look at her smiling. That’s not what assault looks like.

Gold digger got caught in her own lie.

She looks pretty willing to me.

Attention-seeking slag.

There are defenders too. People pointing out she’s clearly drugged, that this is revenge porn, that Marcus is a predator. But they’re drowned out by the hate.

I scroll to the top of the article. The photos have been viewed over a hundred thousand times already. It’s been posted for nine hours.

By now, half the fucking country has seen Isla naked.

Including everyone in Sea Salt Bay. Dot. Cal. Tom. Nina. Frankie and Bill, Ayo … Tilly … The Penrose brothers. The Harpers. My brother. My dad.

Everyone we stood with last night, singing for Peter.

Everyone who welcomed her back.

They’ve all seen these.

And Maisie⁠—

Christ, Maisie. She’s eight years old and she goes to school with kids whose older siblings have phones. It’s only a matter of time before someone shows her. Before she sees Isla like this and doesn’t understand, can’t understand, shouldn’t have to understand.

That’s why Isla ran.

Not because she didn’t love me.

Because she knew. She knew the whole village would see these. Knew Maisie would see them. Knew everyone would look at her differently.

And she couldn’t face it.