At last, the attorneys give their closing statements. You adjourn to the Spartan hotel room and wait.
The jury takes less than a day to deliberate. You shake like a leaf as you approach the courthouse. Buffy, too, is a nervous wreck as you wait for the jury to announce their findings. She paces wildly back and forth in the hall outside the courtroom doors and drums her fingers incessantly on her huge belly.
The doors open and a hush falls over the darkly paneled courtroom. You make your way to the defense table and sit breathlessly to await your fate. Rich squeezes Buffy’s hand as she faces the judge.
The moments that follow are a blur. The next thing you know Buffy is in hysterics as she’s handcuffed roughly and led from the courtroom. You reach for her, but suddenly Rich is at your side, his hand firmly on your shoulder, forcing you to sit helplessly as you watch Buffy being ushered away.
The case becomes a scandal, the unfinished movie is never completed, and you fall into a deep depression, spending more and more hours alone in your bed. Buffy is sentenced to twenty years in prison for second-degree murder. Rich vows to appeal, but the process can take years, and the fight seems to have gone out of Buffy.
You cannot bear to leave the house except to visit the prison. When you’re not with Buffy, you sleep for hours, unable to find the strength to do anything else.
One night, you get a call. The baby has arrived, a little girl. Buffy is inconsolable. “I only got to hold her for a second! They didn’t even really let me see her!” she wails. “They took her away from me! They took her away!”
You contact Social Services and begin the adoption process. You never even consider anything else.
You keep a quiet life these days. Little Jackie takes up most of your time. The paparazzi slow their stalking and some days you can even go to the park unmolested. You visit Buffy once a month, and Jackie’s smiles and laughter brighten your and Buffy’s lives.
With good behavior, Buffy will be released before Jackie’s out of high school. You’ll keep her safe until then. For now, you write your memoir and bide your time.
Your agent calls one afternoon while Jackie is at school. “Remember me?” she jokes. Apparently Jeffries has called to say that the studio wants to try to finish the long-shelved Tropical Tango, to be re-shot with the newest up-and-comer, in the same location, and in 3D. The never-completed film has taken on a cultish air of mystery. Jeffries wants you to headline. “Think of the buzz,” says your agent. “It’ll put you right back in the spotlight. America loves a comeback, and Hollywood has a blessedly short memory.”
You laugh for a moment before you answer. It’s a temptation, but only for a split second.
“Hollywood may have a short memory, but I don’t.”
You hang up the phone and grab your purse and keys. It’s time to pick Jackie up from school.
THE END
To take Anna on a new Bedventure, go back and choose a new path.
Star Struck Page 22