Who could have done this? Lolly worried briefly that Kimmie could be involved somehow, since Kimmie definitely had a bone to pick with Vronsky, especially when it came to Anna. The thought made her sweaty with panic, but when she watched the video a second time she could tell that they were in Anna’s bedroom at the house in Greenwich, not her CPW bedroom (where Anna had an antique mahogany sleigh bed that was over a hundred years old). Her bed in Greenwich was a matte-finished wrought-iron canopy. As far as Lolly knew, there was no time after Kimmie had returned from Arizona when she could have traveled to Greenwich, filmed them having sex, and come back without her or her mom knowing.

Anna changed into a killer Valentino camo bikini as soon as they arrived at their bungalow. She then filled a glass with ice and took back her bottle of vodka and set herself up poolside with headphones. Lolly was impressed Anna wasn’t hysterically bawling. If something like this happened to her, she’d for sure be crying her eyes out.

“What are we gonna do?” Lolly whispered to Steven. “Should we go back home?”

“You don’t have to whisper, Lolls,” Steven said. “She can’t hear us over the Adele she’s blasting. I haven’t heard from my parents, which means it hasn’t hit their radar yet, but it’s only a matter of time. My dad is gonna shit a cinder block when he finds out. He’ll be more upset over this than my mom cheating. This is his Anna, Daddy’s perfect little girl.”

“Surely there’s some damage control we can do,” Lolly said.

“The internet is forever, Lolly,” Steven reminded her. “Every teenager in Manhattan and Connecticut has seen it by now. You’re still checking TMZ, right?”

Lolly nodded. “All they’re covering is Coachella arrivals, and I was thinking about it. They can’t post the video because Anna’s underage. It’s technically child pornography.”

Steven was thrilled at this news. He immediately got on his phone and replied-all to the mysterious email, alerting everyone who watched the video that posting it was a federal offense due to Anna and Vronsky’s age. He didn’t know if this would do anything, but he had to try something.

“Can you go over to Beatrice’s for a temperature check?” Steven asked. “I’m gonna try to talk to Anna and see whether she wants to stay or go home. I doubt we can get a flight out tonight, short of renting a private plane. I can’t make such a huge charge on my AmEx without Dad’s approval, and no way I’m gonna be the messenger who gets killed by delivering the news that his favorite child is the new star of a sex tape.”