Page 98 of Beach Bodies

Understatement of the year: Daniel Lukiewicz has ascended to podcaster royalty.

I shade my eyes and squint. It really is bright out here. ‘I’ve kept up.’

‘Really?’ He sounds surprised.

‘An inmate had an illegal cell phone. I… rented some time.’

He starts to ask something, then decides against it.

I grin. I know what he’s imagining. The ‘rental fee’ was nothingthatinteresting, but... let him think it was.

It’s a bit surreal to be standing so close to him– close enough that I could reach out a hand and touch his arm, or his hand.

The last time I saw Daniel was at my trial. We might as well have been miles away. He was in a suit, clean-shaven. From across the ocean of space between the witness stand and the place where I sat with my lawyer, he testified against me.Lily Lennox murdered four people and tried to murder a fifth. I saw her holding Serena underwater. After I dragged Serena out of the water, Lily confessed on the beach, and then resuscitated Serena.

Prosecution charged me not just with Jessica’s death, but all the murders, since Saint Lisieux had chosen not to try me, thank God– though they did issue a ban prohibiting me from ever re-entering the nation. Not that I’d ever want to return, thank you very much.

Daniel’s count was slightly off, of course. He didn’t know about paddle-board guy. Then again, was that really murder?

‘Why would she resuscitate Serena if she wanted to kill her?’ the defence asked.

‘She didn’t want to end up behind bars,’ he said, and looked straight at me. ‘It was a purely selfish move.’

I couldn’t hold it against him; he was right.

I, of course, denied everything– except for unplugging Jessica. That, I was happy to own.

Still, it wasn’t looking so good for me until they brought Serena up to testify.

‘She saved my life,’ Serena said. ‘I know what happened.’

During cross-examination, the prosecution really went to town on her, but she stubbornly insisted on her version of the story, over and over.I was drunk. I went for a swim. Lily saved my life.I remember that as the moment the tide of the trial turned in my favour.

Whether she legitimately believed it or was simply being strategic since she knew that I had one on her– the CleanSlim she’d given to Skylar that led to the girl’s hospitalization– I’ll never know. But I suspect that more than a little self-interest was at work there, too.

In the end, there simply wasn’t enough evidence for the deaths of years past to nail me, and between Serena’s surprise testimony and a few others– Vic, who was all too eager to defend his hotel and me as an extension of it; Kenton, who gave an emotional account of the way I’d saved Mr Tulaine; Brianna, who called me ‘the sweetest person in the whole place’; and even Carli Elle herself– they cleared me of all charges for the Riovan deaths. They only convicted me forJess. Five years for Manslaughter by Non-Voluntary Passive Euthanasia. Good behaviour brought that down to three.

Three years during which I did a lot of dishes, even more laundry, and read my way through the prison library, including a dozen more books on my list of one hundred. Though I never did finishCrime and Punishment. I spent a lot of time in the prison graveyard, too. Mom died here; no one came to collect her body. She has a small headstone.

‘You brought the Riovan down after all,’ I say to Daniel, which is as close to athank youas he’s going to get, considering.

After I set Jessica free, Daniel extended the season by three more episodes and told my whole story, starting with my childhood and my mom’s conviction, moving through my love story with Jessica and her subsequent struggles. He interviewed friends, family, coworkers, and brought it all to life. Then, in the real season finale, he exposed the Riovan’s ugly underbelly, from the contracts with questionable supplement companies to the fast-and-loose pharmacy to the destructive tactics used by staff to ‘motivate’ guests. The story spread like wildfire. People started coming forward with claims of abuse by the staff, lawsuits rained down, and the hotel folded within the year.

Maybe one day I’ll show Daniel the letters I’ve received in prison because of his podcast; letters from women recovering from eating disorders, and their families, sharing their stories because they felt a connection with mine. A few of those letters included article clippings about other resorts where people had spoken out and made changes, because Jess and my story gave them the courage to do so. I read about how the hashtag #ChangeforJess went viral, inspiring people torethink the overall culture, imagery and language around wellness in gyms, schools, workplaces.

I can’t say I’m proud of all that, since it was other people rallying, speaking up, making change. What I can say is that it felt like a gift– strange and unearned– that somehow, after everything, people cared.

‘Yeah,’ Daniel says, his voice gruff. Raw. ‘I’d do it all again.’

I shield my eyes, trying to make out his eyes behind his sunglasses. ‘So would I.’

I wait to see if he’s upset by this. But his expression doesn’t change.

‘So you’re driving me back to Cincinnati?’ I say.

‘Is that where you want to go?’

I don’t answer for a moment.

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