CHAPTER 25

“Timothy… I have no idea who your father is.” His voice is strangely precise. “I meet a lot of people. I don’t know your Dad, I don’t know what he did, and I don’t know what I told him." “I won’t defend myself or him. All I can tell you is I was a kid with a seven-figure contract trying to deal with my own reality and I didn’t know how.” Disbelief has me shaking my head. “So, why did you bring me here? If you didn’t feel as if you owed me, needed to make it up to me—” “I told you. You were talented, and you fit in with my family. I saw something in you, and I trusted you.”


His words spin in my mind. It makes sense, and it doesn’t. I thought I was here because he had a debt to repay, but it wasn’t his debt... It was mine. He gave me his trust, his help, his home, with nothing in return. My brain hurts. I’m willing to believe there are good things in this world, but this is too much. Too far. He continues, “You’re going to have a career in this industry. Your father couldn’t, but you can and you will." “That doesn’t come easily when there are people in your life you care about. You’ll have to choose what’s right for you and right for her, and those things will not be the same. The first time you have to choose to tour or take a gig in another city, you’ll have to make that choice, and it will tear you apart.” His words paint pictures in my mind, and I try to shove them out. “No. I can take care of her.” “Timothy, protecting her in a sheltered world means nothing. You haven’t seen the start of it. A single person in my circle watched you play, and he was drooling on his two-thousand-dollar shoes.” There’s affection and scorn in equal measure. “You can’t stay for her. I won’t watch you give up your future. She won’t either.” “She needs me.” “She needs you because you’re here. When you’re gone, she’ll rely on herself.” I want to argue, but so much of the shit she’s been through this year was made worse by my presence—her fights with her Dad, with Carla. But I’m not ready to give up. “What about you and Haley?” Eddie barks out a laugh. “You think what you and my daughter have is the same as what me and Haley have? I would lay down my life for Haley, no questions asked. Walk through hell and back. I’d give up everything I am, my future, my world, for her. I have done it, and I’d do it again.” His face contorts in pain, and I wonder if he’s going to say something else but stops. “When I was your age, I was incapable of that kind of love. It would’ve destroyed me.” “You were capable of having a child.” I think of the letter from Emily’s mom. He nods. “At first when I learned about her existence, I denied it. Pushed her away. I was wrong to do it, but it was too much. I couldn’t deal with the demands of the life. When my manager showed me a picture of her, it all changed." “It wasn’t how I planned it, but she was mine. She’ll always be mine. “I know she didn’t have the perfect childhood. If I could have gone back and fixed it all, I would’ve.” The words slice into me. I can’t stand the thought of being selfish like my dad, that I could be hurting not only myself but the girl I care about and the only man who ever looked out for me. “If you don’t want to leave her,” Eddie starts, “tell me you love her, my daughter Emily.” My stomach drops. “What?” “Tell me you love her like I love Haley.” I’ve seen Eddie and Haley together. Their bond. It’s something I’ve never let myself hope for, not to mention trust. If I ever could love someone like that, it’d be Emily. I know it in my heart. I lift my palm, search the lines a girl traced there once. It took sixteen years for someone to tell me I’d have a bright future. It wasn’t my Dad. It wasn’t some producer. It was Emily. I open my mouth to respond, but Eddie beats me to it. “It’s not enough. If there’s a moment’s hesitation, an ounce of reservation, it’s not enough. “What were you thinking would happen when you started your career? When she left for school?” Those words break me. I’ve always had a plan, always been two steps ahead or killed myself trying to be. “I don’t want to hurt her.” My words echo in the bus. “You can hurt her a little now or more later.” I think of her face after prom. I imagine it amplified tenfold, a hundredfold. “She’s stronger than you think,” he goes on. “But when it comes to you, she’s weak.” I want to grab the photos off the wall and hurl them across the bus. I wish I could dismiss his words, but I can’t. I see the truth of them every time she looks at me. I’m older. I should know better. I owe her better. If Eddie was forcing me to leave, I’d tell him to go to hell, but he’s asking. Eddie Carlton, the biggest musician in a generation, the man who acted like a father to me when he had no fucking reason to, is asking. I rock back on my heels. “If I leave, she’ll think she doesn’t matter to me. That I lied to her.” He crosses to me and lifts a fist. I don’t flinch. I’ll take whatever punishment he wants to dole out. I deserve it and more. Instead, he grabs my shoulder in his strong grip. Eddie’s expression is clouded with the same pain ravaging my body, my soul. “Our hearts make liars of us all. I lied to her for years, and I love her more than you ever could.”



“You ready to sing your face off, Miss Ariel?” Avery asks when I slide into her car with my bags for opening night. “So ready.” I bounce excitedly in my seat. “When’s Timothy coming?” “I’m not sure. I texted him but haven’t heard back yet.” I didn’t notice Timothy at school today, but I didn’t have time to look for him. I was exempted from classes for final preparations for opening night. “But I got all these candles and snuck them down to the gazebo for tonight.” She squeals, and my stomach flips. Between the musical and what happens after, this is going to be the best fucking night of my life. We get to school, and I hug my friend before taking off to do my hair and makeup backstage. After, I warm up with the rest of the cast, doing vocal exercises and some physical stretches. I try to peek at the audience but can’t get a good look. On impulse, I hit Timothy’s number. It goes to voicemail. “Hey, it’s me. I’m going to pretend you’re here to say break a leg or promise me cheese fries, but I can’t wait to see you tonight.” I swallow my nerves. “Thank you for helping me with this. I couldn’t have done it without you.” I leave the phone out, face up, while I go back to the dressing room. “Fifteen minutes!” the stage manager calls. I go to grab my costume. It’s not there. I ask the other actors and the stage manager, but no one’s seen it. Then my gaze lands on Carla. “I think I saw it over there.” She points to the corner. Relief has me sagging as I run to get my tail, its garment bag draped over a chair. I hold up the plastic bag and notice red liquid running down the bottom. “No.” I get the tail out of the bag and open it, seeing the inside stained red. I gingerly reach out to touch it, and it’s wet. Panic rises up in my throat. “What did you do?”



“Me? Nothing. Jessy was drinking wine a little while ago. She must have spilled. Or maybe it’s that time of the month.” Jessy looks toward me in shock. “That’s bullshit.” But Carla turns and walks away. My breath sticks in my chest. Shit. “Ten minutes!” “Emily!” Jenna calls me over to her dressing table. “Do you want mine?” She bites her lip, trying to hide the wince. I find a smile. “No, but do you have your garbage bag still?” She helps me put it on underneath my real costume. It’s still gross, but at least I can perform without being distracted by stickiness. “Does the fabric smell?” I ask. She sniffs near my waist. “Only up close. If you can ignore it, Carla and Chris are the only other ones who’ll get a whiff.” “Perfect.” I’m not about to let this stop me. I take my spot in the wings as the curtain rises on the first scene. I watch it before the lights go down, and I take my mark. When the lights come up once more, I look out at the audience. I recognize Avery’s pink sweater. She’s in a row with her parents. I find my Dad and Haley. I’m pretty sure there’s an empty seat next to my Dad. I try to hit all the notes and the words, but my body feels heavy, as if I’m performing in water. My forehead’s damp from the lights. Then partway through the first act, my gaze lands on a shape at the back of the seats, by the doorway. Timothy. Every part of me lifts, expands, and from that point forward, I love being on stage. I relish every second in the spotlight. This is what I wanted, and though I sneak a look at my family once in a while, every line and song and scene makes me realize it’s not for them. It’s for me. I’m doing it for me, and I feel amazing. The final curtain is accompanied by thunderous applause and hollering. Everyone exchanges smiles—even Chris pulled his shit together. Carla tries to avoid my gaze but can’t, and I wink at her as we join hands to bow. “I owe you a drink,” I murmur to her, “since I’m pretty sure your family’s entire liquor cabinet is inside my costume.” “That was great, Emily,” Haley says when she and my dad come backstage after the show. Her eyes land on my costume and the trash bag on top of it. “Do I want to know what that’s about?” “No. No, you don’t.” I smile, looking past her. “Where’s Timothy? I saw him come in. He was standing in the back.” They exchange a look. My Dad lowers his voice. “Let’s go home.” “I’m going with Avery.” “Emily, please.” “Okay,” I relent, waving to my friend with a promise to call her in the morning. When we get home, my Dad’s Bentley is already in the garage, but Timothy’s bike is gone.