“Okay, as soon as the town hall is over, we’re out of here.” She pulled out her phone. “I know they locked some of the back doors for security, but I’ll get Sam to let us out.”

The next fifteen minutes felt interminable. Olivia kept a fake smile on her face the whole time, and her face turned in the direction of the stage, but she couldn’t and didn’t look at Max. Finally, Max thanked everyone for coming, and got a round of applause. As everyone in the whole room staggered to their feet, talking and laughing and banging chairs around, Jamila grabbed Olivia’s arm.

“Follow me.”

Olivia didn’t let herself glance in the direction of the stage as they fled. They went away from the main doors to a little door in the corner of the room, almost hidden behind the AV equipment. Jamila opened the door, and they slipped through.

“This takes us to the back; we have to walk around the block to the parking lot,” Jamila said. Olivia just nodded.

They didn’t speak as they rushed to Olivia’s car, thank God. She just wanted to get out of there, away from Max’s staff and the press and everyone else who had been in that room. But most of all, away from Max, who knew she never wanted to be in the spotlight, who knew how hard it had been for her to be thrown into public because of him, who knew that she’d only done that for him because she loved him, and who had tried to drag her and her story and her pain and her struggles in front of the world, like she was some kind of trophy for him. She had to get away as fast as she could before she broke down.

They stopped right by Olivia’s car.

“Do you need me to drive you home?” Jamila asked.

Olivia shook her head.

“I really appreciate that, but no. I just need to … I just need to go.”

Jamila touched her arm and looked into her eyes.

“Text or call later if you need to talk. Okay?”

Olivia looked away so she wouldn’t cry.

“Thanks,” she said. “And thanks for getting me out of there.”

Olivia gave Jamila a quick hug and then got in her car and sped out of the parking lot as quickly as she could. Part of her wondered if there were photographers around waiting for her or maybe even following her home, but at this point, she was past caring about that.

She felt so relieved when she pulled up to her house. All she wanted was to be inside, in her own space, alone. In a place where she didn’t have to worry that anyone was watching her or judging her or taking pictures of her. A place she wouldn’t have to hold on tight to herself and everything she was feeling.