Gone-Girl-by-Gillian-Flynn

‘Ohhhh, shit,’ says one woman to her friend, a cheap-cabernet redhead.
‘Oh noooo, I was actually starting to feel bad for the guy,’ says the friend.
‘I have crap in my fridge older than that girl. What an asshole.’
Andie stands behind the mike and looks down with dark eyelashes at a
statement that leaf-shakes in her hand. Her upper lip is damp; it shines under
the camera lights. She swipes an index finger to blot the sweat. ‘Um. My
statement is this: I did engage in an affair with Nick Dunne from April 2011
until July of this year, when his wife, Amy Dunne, went missing. Nick was
my professor at North Carthage Junior College, and we became friendly, and
then the relationship became more.’
Andie stops to clear her throat. A dark-haired woman behind her, not
much older than I am, hands her a glass of water, which she slurps quickly,
the glass shaking.
‘I am deeply ashamed of having been involved with a married man. It
goes against all my values. I truly believed I was in love’ – she begins crying;
her voice shivers – ‘with Nick Dunne and that he was in love with me. He
told me that his relationship with his wife was over and that they would be
divorcing soon. I did not know that Amy Dunne was pregnant. I am
cooperating with the police in their investigation in the disappearance of Amy
Dunne, and I will do everything in my power to help.’
Her voice is tiny, childish. She looks up at the wall of cameras in front of
her and seems shocked, looks back down. Two apples turn red on her round
cheeks.
‘I … I.’ She begins sobbing, and her mother – that woman has to be her
mother, they have the same oversize anime eyes – puts an arm on her
shoulder. Andie continues reading. ‘I am so sorry and ashamed for what I
have done. And I want to apologize to Amy’s family for any role I played in
their pain. I am cooperating with the police in their investi—Oh, I said that
already.’
She smiles a weak, embarrassed smile, and the press corps chuckle
encouragingly.
‘Poor little thing,’ says the redhead.
She is a little slut, she is not to be pitied. I cannot believe anyone would
feel sorry for Andie. I literally refuse to believe it.
‘I am a twenty-three-year-old student,’ she continues. ‘I ask only for some