Bit by bit Lizzie's connection to the internet became more tenuous. Each day she took another step toward severing ties completely. Within a week she was cut off completely and it was as if nothing existed outside the physical walls around her.

She disconnected the wifi on her phone and turned off the 3G. Not that it mattered, but she deleted her Twitter and Facebook apps. Soon enough her phone was just a phone. She went to send a mass text to let everyone know she was only reachable by phone, but then realized the only people she really cared to tell were Charlotte and Jane. She felt like she was in constant contact with hundreds of people over the past year, but now...now there were just so many people she could face.

Her last day online consisted entirely of watching Lydia's channel. She attacked the project with internet tunnel-vision. She was there for one thing and one thing only and once that was finished Lizzie was prepared to swear off the internet for the rest of her life.

It was partly an act of self-preservation. The internet which she had always defended with all her heart had betrayed her. To the layperson that probably sounded dramatic, but it was the truth.

Lizzie had always lauded the internet's ability to connect her to the greater world. All the worries people had (identity theft, viruses, privacy) were the result of ignorance, she supposed. She had campaigned for Internet Neutrality in middle school, protested SOPA in college and advocated for home-made content creation all her life. But now Lizzie knew the danger of the internet all too closely. And if the internet meant the possibility of seeing George Wickham's face one more time? Well then, the decision was easy.

Most importantly, she needed to get away. Or more precisely, she needed to come back. She needed to be here – home. She had to be fully home.

She went as far as disconnecting the router, but that only raised the suspicions of her dad. Lizzie knew they couldn't hide the situation from her parents forever. To be honest she was relieved to let someone else in on what was going on. They needed new resources, access to lawyer friends and another mind at work. Not to mention a parent, a real live adult, to try and convince them it will all be okay…eventually.

One thing was clear; Lizzie had to keep posting her videos. She knew that. It was her fault this happened. It didn't matter what Darcy said or how tenderly he said it. Lizzie could still feel his large, warm hand as it grazed along her back. Even days later it was a source of comfort, but its memory couldn't absolve Lizzie of her guilt.

Lydia would never have vlogged if it hadn't been for her. She wouldn't be "YouTube Sensation Lydia Bennet." She wouldn't have met George, George wouldn't have used her for revenge against Lizzie, and Lydia wouldn't have felt so alone to be vulnerable to his lies.

Lizzie had to keep posting if only to remind the internet that things were still far from fixed. The website was still up. Lydia was still broken. She was a real person, not just someone that the internet could use as a punching bag. The internet needed to know that.

As much as it hurt Lizzie to face her own faults on a bi-weekly basis, she was the one with the audience and a heart hat wasn't broken. Yes, it was bruised, slightly mishandled, but playing the victim was not in her cards at the moment.

She sent Charlotte each video on Dropbox, the one time she allowed herself to use the computer and even then she would only use the family desktop. The hardware so much older that uploading was a form of punishment that felt fitting to her crime. She sent each one with brief notes on what to keep and what little to edit. Lizzie knew Charlotte would follow her directions without question. Maybe a clarification about how much to keep in, but Lizzie had made it clear she was determined to post it all as is.

Charlotte only questioned Lizzie's decision to keep posting once.

Lizzie hoped that Charlotte could hear her resolve through her choked response.

As far as Lizzie knew, the videos were sent off into a void – into another dimension in another time and space. She felt no need to playback the videos after filming. They were too fresh and sharing them wasn't about making herself appear a certain way. Not anymore. These videos were probably the most journalistic; she couldn't help but think bitterly. She'd always had a problem with editorializing. Her journalism ethics professor would be so proud.

For the first time in years she was fully present at home. She started helping out with dinner in the evenings. Her mom was so shocked the first time that she simply stood and stared as Lizzie began chopping an onion. She spent Saturday morning reading alongside her father in the den and anytime Lydia made an appearance she was ready to drop anything and everything.

Yes, there might have been some smothering, a little treating Lydia like a piece of damaged glass. At one point Lydia snapped at Lizzie to give her at least a three foot bubble of personal space and a reminder that privacy was a normal thing when someone went into the bathroom. Lizzie might have been over zealous, but she was trying.

She was acutely aware of the dynamic between herself and her family. The space she occupied. The precarious nature of her relationships and the people she had blasted across the web.

Things were far from fixed, but every once in a while the whole family would wander into the living room at the same time. Lizzie would look up from her book and see her mom reading a magazine in the corner and Lydia curled up into Jane's side on the couch as they watched whatever was on Bravo. Her dad would catch her eye over the pages of his Steven King novel and with a small raise of his eyebrow she'd know. There was more to them than what people saw online.

It would be okay. They would be okay.