Months passed without any social media. No makeup, no posts, no comments, no questions. But slowly, Cecily found herself missing her old routine. Missing the comfort and joy that makeup had brought to her. Eventually, she found herself getting back into it. She found herself thinking more and more about what Bella had said, about how maybe having someone like her on the internet could . . . help people.
Cecily wasn’t surprised to find that Amber felt the same way about missing some aspects of social media. But not Rudy. He decided to stay dark. Instead of focusing on follower counts or engagement, Rudy said he wanted to focus on himself. Cecily knows that he’s been thinking about college. Maybe sociology, maybe criminal justice, maybe journalism—he’s not sure. Something to do with investigations. Real investigations, not internet drama. Cecily understands, and she supports him. Rudy had found the follower, after all. She’s sure that he’ll be good at it. And Cecily will always support her siblings, just like she knows they will always support her.
And so the Cole triplets’ account became two separate entities:
@Amber_Cole, a #LoveEveryBody account that focuses on fashion, lifestyle, and navigating social media in a larger world.
@Cecily_Cole, a beauty account that focuses on the chemical analysis of leading makeup brands to find the best solutions for unique or sensitive skin.
Of course, the collaborations are frequent. And all the money they make from joint livestreams goes right into a scholarship: the Bella DiNatori and Alex Grable Memorial Fund for students of the local high school.
A few miles down the road is an empty lot where the Tremont house used to be. It languished for a few months in the property limbo that came with Reena’s death. But on a dreary Tuesday last week, most of the town had turned out to watch as it was demolished. The historical society picketed. The local newspaper took photos.
Cecily and her family did not go.
Through a delicate balance of their renewed social media popularity and a deal with the developers, the family finances are hanging on, at least by a thread. In the wake of Reena, their fundraising pages have been flooded with enough donations to keep them afloat. Last week, Cecily caught her parents asleep together on the couch, just holding each other. The fights over money have stopped. It feels like more than enough.
In the kitchen and living room, Mr. and Mrs. Cole entertain adults and hand out business cards, back in their stride and drumming up a new business. They won’t be renovating homes this time, but they will be offering their interior design know-how on a consulting basis in addition to selling customized, handmade furniture and decor. At least, until Rudy is done with physical therapy and Cecily with plastic surgery.
Which means that the Cole triplets get to have their birthday party in Norton, surrounded by hometown kids. Their friends. They aren’t exactly beloved local celebrities, but the Tremont Street Follower—as news articles call Reena—had at least proven that they aren’t money-hungry liars. The whole town is still grieving Bella’s death, but most of the local kids have found a way to do so without hating the Cole triplets. The scholarship fund had helped. A lot.
Still, attendance at their birthday party is largely business contacts for their parents. But Jada is here, along with Miles and a few other boys that Rudy had recruited a couple weeks ago for some kind of garage band. Bella’s friends are here, as well—a few former classmates who had instantly gotten into Cecily’s good graces when they decided to fundraise for Bella’s scholarship themselves, expanding the effort from a social media movement and into Bella’s hometown. Even Alicia makes a brief appearance to hand them a small card and stammer out an apology and say that she doesn’t want to stay. Cecily understands.
Now, Jada snaps a few pictures of Cecily, her sister, and brother laughing, opening presents, and eating their birthday cake. Cecily posts photos without even thinking about editing.
After the party is over, Cecily stays up with her siblings long after the last guest—Jada, of course—has gone home. They open the rest of their presents and read their cards, and each of them devours a second helping of cake.
Outside, the woods are quiet. But it’s a good quiet, Cecily thinks. Full of soft, wild noises like insects and small creatures moving through the brush. No sticks crack in the night. No footsteps echo overhead.
Mrs. Cole, who had insisted on tackling all the party cleanup with their dad and no help from them, pops her head into the living room to say good night. “Your father and I are going to hit the hay. We have a long day of touring properties tomorrow.” She envelops all three of them in a group hug. “Happy birthday. I love you.”
They hug her back.
“Oh,” she says. “I guess someone forgot to give you their present! This was on the kitchen table. Good night, sweethearts.”
The gift she sets down before them is small, wrapped in the same brown wax paper that Cecily associates with butchers and cuts of meat. She picks it up. Something rattles inside. She hands it to Rudy. “You open it.”
“If you insist.”
It is tied with a single red ribbon. Rudy unravels it and peels away the wrapping paper to reveal an old, wooden box. Something that looks like it could have belonged in the Tremont house.
Cecily feels her heart rate uptick. She fights it. She breathes in, out, and counts to three in her mind, just as her therapist had told her. Slowly, the fear ebbs away, but she can’t shake the feeling of unease. She and Amber draw close to their brother.
Cecily watches Rudy open the box and feels her sense of safety
