She’d met Darlie Maddigan, who’d play Karrie, had run a scene with her to test chemistry. She liked Darlie’s approach to the role—the wide-eyed, anxious perfection seeker.

They played it as opposites attract, and it worked.

In reality Darlie, a confident, savvy vet of eighteen, had snagged her first part at the age of three and never looked back.

She had a house in Malibu, preferred lunch meetings to nights at the clubs, and had recently inked a whopping contract as the face—and body—for a line of activewear aimed at the sixteen-to-twenty-five demographic.

Darlie, her long blond hair in a simple ponytail, walked into the read and straight to Hugh. “Gramps.” She hugged him. “I’m going to say, again, how excited I am to work with you. How’s it going, Cate? Are you ready?”

“Really ready.”

“Good. I’m psyched. Let’s have some fun.”

It was—mostly. Cate sat at the table with the cast, the director, the money people, the writer, the assistant who’d read the stage directions. She met her movie parents for the first time, and the actor playing the top jock Karrie pined for, the awkward nerd who not-sosecretly pined for Jute, and all the rest.

“Karrie wails, throws herself on her bed and sobs.”

Though Cate found the wail impressive, she was too deep in character to show it.

“Jee-sus, Kare, mop it the fuck up! You’re embarrassing yourself. More important, you’re embarrassing me.”

“Jute drops down to sit on the bed. For a beat, her face shows sympathy, then she slaps Karrie on the ass.”

“The guy’s a dickwad, Karrie.”

“Why won’t he be my dickwad?”

“Karrie rolls over.”

“I love him. I want to die. My mother’s having sex with Mr. Schroder. She bought sex underwear! I’m getting a B—a B!—in calculus. And—and after I tutored Kevin for two weeks, after I spent hours with him, after I helped him get an A, it’s just: Thanks, glad that’s over!”

“Hence dickwad. Let’s address, in no particular order. Your mom having sex with Schroder—who’s hot for an old dude—is advantage Karrie. As long as she’s having sex, thinking about sex, buying sex underwear, she’s off your back. It’s the dry spells, Kare, where they’re all over us. Root for the sex and live free.”

Karrie throws her arm over her eyes, sniffles. “I don’t want to live free without Kevin. You’re my best friend. You’re supposed to take my side.”

Rolling with it now, Cate jumped up, turned a circle, kicked an imaginary bedpost. “You want me to take your side? You take your side. Do you want that dickwad?” Shouting now. “Do you want that dickwad!”

“Yes!”

“Then mop it the hell up. Mop it now! Strap on your ovaries, hoist your tits up.” Walking over, she pulled Darlie to her feet. “Strap those ovaries on tight. Hoist those tits high, and go get your dickwad.”

“How?”

“Are your ovaries strapped?” Cate jabbed a finger in Darlie’s belly. “Are your tits high?” Covered a startled Darlie’s breasts with her hands and pushed up.

“Yes?”

“Then I’ll tell you. But I need some nachos.”

Applause and laughter broke out around the table.

“Can we keep that in?” Darlie demanded. “Can we keep in the poke and grope?”

“Already in the notes,” the director said. “Good work, ladies. Next scene.”

Cate all but bounced out of the read, and would have bounced right into the wardrobe meeting the next day.

But that night Entertainment Tonight broke the story of Caitlyn Sullivan’s return—and rehashed the kidnapping.

Variety ran the story. People, the Los Angeles Times, Entertainment Weekly all hammered on the door for interviews, statements, comments, photos.

The internet exploded over it.

The refusal to give interviews or comments didn’t starve the fire.

During the first week of production, it only shot higher when someone managed to take a photo of Cate on the back lot and sell it to a tabloid.

They ran the picture of her dressed as Jute, flipping her middle finger, beside one of her taken when she’d been ten.

LITTLE GIRL LOST TO TEENAGE REBEL

Caitlyn Sullivan’s Ugly Secrets

Social media picked up the theme, ran with it.

Stewing with resentment, Cate sat in Darlie’s trailer on the back lot, waiting for a call to their next scene.

“I know how it works. I know why they do it. I just don’t understand why anyone cares so much.”

“Sure you do. You were a kid whose mother used her. I’m sorry if that chips the bone.”

Cate shook her head. “I know what is.”

“Well, it sucks wide. You’re also one of the Hollywood Sullivans, and that’s a BFD.”

Darlie, looking her part in a red-and-white cheerleader outfit, gestured with her bottle of unsweetened peppermint tea.

“Even if you weren’t, you’re an actor, you’re a performer. We’re not-so-fair game, Cate. That kind of bullshit is part of the price.”

Truth, the simplicity of it, didn’t make it an easier swallow. “I knew it would happen. I figured it would hit, then fade off if nothing fed it.”

“People feed it. People who click on the stories, who grab the trash at the checkout counter while the grocery store clerk’s ringing up their cans of tuna.”

“I know they do it to you, too.”

“Yeah. I can usually ignore. But I had someone I was pretty serious about last year. I go out to dinner with my costar, and somebody gets a picture of us smiling at each other, and wham-bam, it’s all over everywhere we’re doing it and hard. I could shrug it off, but the guy I was seeing couldn’t. Wouldn’t. He more than half believed it, so . . .”

She shrugged, drank more tea. “That ended that.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Me, too. I really cared about him.” Smiling, she poked Cate in the arm. “Even though he turned into a dickwad.”

At the knock on the door, Darlie glanced over.

“You’re wanted on set, Ms. Maddigan, Ms. Sullivan.”

“Thanks! It’ll fade off,” she told Cate. “Somebody’ll cheat on somebody or get knocked up with somebody’s baby or get busted for a DUI. There’s always something. So.”

She rose, tipped her head right and left to loosen her neck. “Keep those tits high.”

“They’re high.” Sliding out from the table, Cate gave hers a quick boost to prove it. “You’ve just got better ones than I do.”

Lips pursed, Darlie looked down. “True. But you’ve got longer legs. Come on, girlfriend, let’s take my tits and your legs and go nail this scene.”

The work helped. Having someone outside family, someone close to her own age to talk to helped. Her small, supporting role wrapped in a matter of weeks—and Darlie proved right—the bulk of the media attention faded off.

With her father on location for at least a week, she waited until her grandfather had a day off the call list to corner him.

She found him in his office with its view of a three-tiered fountain and wide green lawn.