In a way, Peri was a fixer. She told me that instead of giving me money, she was going to offer me a business opportunity. But first, I had to tell Quinn that I didn’t want him to do the story about Tom, that something had shifted in me during my trip to see my mom; I knew he wouldn’t complain due to his loyalty to me, due to the fact that it was my entanglement and rage that led to the article idea in the first place.

I told him that instead, he should write an article about Odilie’s Instagram, the doppelgänger effect. How she’d been crazily, eerily, obsessed with me, she and her husband both. And that that obsession, inexplicably, led to their deaths through no fault of my own. Emphasis on the last part. It’s an investigative piece, about social media and emulation and how, in the darkest circumstances, all of it can be deadly. Photos by Sam, as promised. And just to get the Pattersons off our backs, part of the story was about Page, how we became close friends, how we’d found support in each other through shared devastation. Bullshit. But who cares, as long as it looks good.

Page is fine, anyway; Peri easily paid her off, helped her with that vacation home idea of hers, which is actually beginning to take off. She has partnerships now with Sotheby’s Realty and a Hollywood location scout. She’s still with Jackson, shacking up with him in some ridiculously priced Tribeca loft. Thankfully, her hair is honey blond now. Though, occasionally, I see glimpses of her on Instagram wearing a dress I was spotted in, her nails coffin shaped and burgundy. It never ends, I guess. But at least now I’m sort of flattered by it.

Of course, I wanted Quinn to have his day. Peri promised she would work behind the scenes to make his piece go viral, too. It did, and now Sam is getting more and more recognition for their photography; last month the Ford Foundation commissioned them to develop a portrait series of survivors of intimate partner violence. Quinn and I have a podcast series, a movie deal. Peri has shielded us from any efforts SNAPea has made to squelch our ascent. And besides, no one is talking about SNAPea. Only about Odilie, social media, the dangers of making oneself public online.

Quinn seems content enough, but I suspect that part of him, a little molecule of himself that he doesn’t like to share, is a little resentful, is upset that we didn’t take down the Man. He wanted to eviscerate SNAPea, become a real investigative journalist, not remain a pop reporter.