Page 67 of Shatter

"You didn't..." I whisper, my voice catching.

He squeezes my hip reassuringly.

"I did."

Overwhelmed with emotion I can't stop myself from throwing my arms around his neck and burying my face in his shoulder. The DJ continues, starting about the silent auction to raise money, attorney and advocates, the future, but all I can hear is my heartbeat racing through my ears.

He created a fund - a legal fund - for people like me. Ten years ago. We'd just met ten years ago. What do you mean he's been working secretly behind the scenes to build an advocacy group for exactly the situation I'm in. He didn't even know back then! I hastily wipe the tears from my cheeks and sit up. His hand instantly comes to my face, wiping the tears that followed the ones I cleared.

"Wha- how- what do you mean?"

"I didn't know back then, but I had an inkling. I didn't like the idea that your mother was signing contracts on your behalf, when you were too young to really understand anything. It didn't seem right. So I went home and looked into it. Apparently parents abuse their children and their rights a lot more than you'd think."

My chest balloons with gratitude. His friends are kind enough to pretend to ignore us as I fall apart in his arms. He met me as a little girl, researched my situation, and created an entire charity for people like me. All unprompted. No one asked him to. He saw a need and he simply filled it. All without taking any of the credit for it. That is just the kind of man Harrison is. I can't imagine the number of child actors this organization has already helped.

Now I know why he snuck out. He didn't want me to know about this. He didn't want the credit. Maybe he was a little embarrassed.

But one word from his little speech sticks out to me.

Abuse.

He'd given a name to my experience. I'd never thought of it as abuse, but framed this way, it's so obvious that my mother abused me. She controlled my finances and access to money. She controlled every aspect of my life. I picture it as if it were a boyfriend or husband doing the same things to me and the answer is so obvious that I feel stupid. I would never let a man control my money, my body, or my career.

She's my mother, and while I resented and hated the control she had over me, I'd also never known any other way. She'd always done it. At least, in the beginning, it was framed as a way of protecting me - of deciding what was best for me. But I wasn't a child anymore. When was she going to give up control?

Never?

The truth was that I had no idea what my contract even said. I had no idea what she had agreed to when we signed those contracts with my agent and sponsors. I didn't even know how much I'd been paid for each job.

I was an idiot to assume there was a bank account out there with a fat sum of money just waiting for me to... what? Turn eighteen? I had. Turn twenty-five? I had. At what point would I be allowed to be my own person?

Righteous anger replaces the gratitude in my chest and I wipe my eyes.

"I want a lawyer."

He simply nods, before standing, wrapping his hand in mine, and leading me away.

Chapter thirty-four

Harrison

"Mel, I'd like to introduce you to Johnathan Whitmoore. He's the best lawyer we have working with us. John, Melody Snow."

I make the introductions brief because I'm more than a little embarrassed. It was the entire reason I'd snuck out of my own apartment like a thief. I was going to skip tonight altogether, but Daniel convinced me to go. He said it was important to celebrate our successes and see firsthand what my organization accomplishes.

Stupid Daniel.

So now Mel knows all of my dirty little secrets. That I met her over a decade ago and turned around and created an entire non-profit for people like her. Over the years, I'd had an inkling that something wasn't quiet on the up and up with Athena, but never thought I had the right to demand answers. I knew if I had, I'd never see Mel again. She seemed like a happy enough kid, so I didn't press the issue. I'd gotten to see her a few times a year, and every time she was happy, so I let it be. It wasn't until she came waltzing into The Envelope that I ever got a hint that something was wrong.

But now, I'd really like to see what kind of shit Athena is pulling, and just how complicit Chris is in it, or if he's just the bumbling idiot along for the ride.

Whitmoore shakes Mel's hand, and I watch her transform in front of my eyes. She smiles at him, but it's her practiced one - the one she has during interviews and public appearances. It's demure, reserved, professional and I decide I hate it. I'd rather see her cry than this fake version of her. At least when she's crying she's being real.

"I'd like you to work with her and take a look at her conservator contract with her mother," I say, making sure everyone's on the same page.

Whitmoore's eyebrow rises. "A conservatorship at your age would be highly unusual. Your mother would have had to prove to a judge that you were mentally incapable of managing your finances. Think addiction or severe mental-health crisis."

Mel's eyebrows shoot up, belaying her surprise.