Humbled by the moving tribute, Zandra squeezed Claudia’s hand and mouthed, Thank you.
As the two women turned back to the audience, Zandra said quietly, “I hope that the stories we’ve shared today will help others come forward. If you’ve never been a victim of abuse, you might not understand just how paralyzing fear can be, and how it can keep people trapped in destructive relationships. My mother lived in constant fear of my father, and she suffered until the day she took her own life.”
Zandra paused, her voice thickening with emotion. “Growing up, I was very fortunate to have the love and support of a very special family—” She met the caring gazes of each member of the Brand clan “—and to them I am eternally grateful. It’s too late for my mother, but if this message helps anyone out there who has been suffering in silence, then maybe Autumn Kennedy’s death wasn’t in vain.”
As the press conference ended, someone began clapping.
Zandra looked out into the audience.
It was Remy, standing on his feet, his eyes glowing with fierce pride and adoration.
Her heart lurched into her throat.
Then others started clapping, and within moments the applause had swelled to a thunderous roar.
As Zandra exchanged quiet, triumphant smiles with the other women on the stage, she allowed herself to believe that everything would be okay from now on.
Even though she knew better.
Several hours after the press conference, Zandra received an email from Heath.
Just saw the video. You were positively amazing. Couldn’t be more proud. I’m coming to Chicago on business next month. If you’re not available for dinner—and I suspect you’re not—perhaps you could put me in touch with the cheeky blonde. You know I’ve always had a fondness for feisty women.
A delighted grin swept across Zandra’s face. Without thinking twice, she wrote back, Claudia is indeed feisty. And you’re going to love her....
Chapter Twenty-Three
Three days later, Landis Kennedy issued a statement announcing his withdrawal from the mayoral race. The decision came as no surprise to anyone who’d watched or heard about Zandra’s emotional press conference. Her revelations about her father’s history of violence had, as one political analyst put it, “singlehandedly demolished the shortest-lived campaign” Chicagoans had ever seen.
An hour after Landis made his announcement, Johanna Kennedy filed for divorce. After the news broke, she sent Zandra a cryptic text message. Just three words that spoke chilling volumes: You were right.
Later that morning, Zandra was in her office when Christine sauntered through the doorway. “She is woman, hear her roar.”
Zandra glanced up distractedly from the email message she’d been composing on her computer. “Hmm?”
“That was the headline from the latest editorial about you,” Christine explained, lowering herself into the chair across from Zandra’s desk. Her manicured fingers slid across her smartphone, scrolling through pages. “These are just some of the other headlines that have graced articles about you, and I admit some are more corny than clever. Zandra: Warrior Princess. A Daughter’s Triumphant Vengeance. The Slap Heard Around the World. Bullies Beware. Hell Hath No Fury Like a Madam Scorned.” Christine paused with a chuckle. “The girls are getting some great press, too. Oh, and they’ve been dubbed Zandra’s Angels.”
Zandra made a pained face. “Hadn’t heard that one.”
Christine grinned. “Three days later, you’re still one of the top trending topics on Twitter, and your Google ranking is even higher than that other famous Kennedy.”