“I take it back,” Jiyeon said, wryly. “You made him pretty mad. Try us in about ten years.”
Eunjae did look up, then. “Don’t.”
In the end, they used the same three pictures, stepping outside to take the third together. The light was better behind the shop. Eunjae and Jiyeon stood on the back stoop as the post went live, going over the statement he was sending to the agency. Despite being fired the previous night, Apollo’s manager had kindly agreed to handle the rest.
“Hey, I have an idea,” Jiyeon said. “Later, what if we did one more post?”
They’d planned it out by the time Ezra came to find them. Leila was with him, imperious in a trench and dark glasses. That was enough of a jolt, but then Simon hurried around the corner from the parking lot. He reached them just as Leila said, “I’m here for Ezra. He’ll miss the rest of the week, too.”
“Mum, why? I don’t want to miss—”
“Last minute casting call. A friend told me about it. It’s the perfect opportunity, but we’ll have to get you some decent headshots by tomorrow morning. Unless you want to take them for us, Ari? You’ve got at least one of those fancy cameras with you, surely.”
His mother threw that out like a dare. Her words erased color and light, leaving Eunjae with a world rendered in bleak monochrome. He understood that this was Leila’s parting shot. The choices he’d made over the last twenty-four hours placed him beyond redemption. She’d given him up as a lost cause once and for all, but Leila had two sons, and she would try again.
“There’s an acting workshop two weeks from now,” she continued, straightening the collar on Ezra’s rugby shirt. “I’ll talk to Blackridge. He might even miss the rest of the year, if things go well.”
A casting call. Acting lessons. What next? An agent, print ads, a commercial? Jiyeon crossed her arms. “Do you even like acting?” she asked Ezra. “You’ve never mentioned it.”
“Does he have much of a choice? He can’t count on his brother to support him forever, especially not now.” Cold laughter. “I’m not even sure how Ari plans to support himself. If this is all he’ll ever be—”
“Then I’ll be happy,” Eunjae finished for her.
It wasn’t too late. He could stop this right now. He wasn’t a helpless kid, and he wasn’t like his father, lacking the courage to fight back. Eunjae could win a different future for Ezra.Don’t you see?he wanted to shout.Don’t you see that I can’t let this happen again—
An excerpt fromMolly Merriweather and the Timeless Prince, second in a series of children’s books(Molly in Time)by Robin Ayres
“I really am sorry,” said the other Molly. “Time’s already split. My future isn’t your future. Even if I make a different choice, it won’t change anything for you.”
Molly choked down a sob.Don’t you see?she wanted to shout.I know it’s too late to change this for me… but I could change it for you.
45
ComprehendingLeila’smotivationswouldn’thave changed how Jiyeon felt about her. Still, she tried to understand. So many theories were plausible. Leila disapproved of Eunjae's decisions, so maybe this was for revenge, or punishment. Maybe she genuinely thought breaking into the entertainment industry would be a viable way for Ezra to make a living.
As of today, Jiyeon had a new theory. Fame was the dream that eluded Leila in her youth. It became the dream she forced on Eunjae.
“Come on,” she said now, growing impatient. “We really do need to go, my love.”
But the teenager resisted. “Mum, they still need help here. I can’t go yet.”
“That’s sweet, but plenty of people felt sorry for them. They don’t need you.”
“But—” He looked to his brother, to their father standing on the sidewalk. In what Jiyeon considered to be the most potent surprise of the day, it was the latter who picked a fight on Ezra’s behalf.
“He’s too young,” Simon said. “Ezra should go back to school. We can talk about this when he's older.”
“Since when do you care?”
“I cared then, too. I didn't… I didn't say anything. That was a mistake.”
This admission hit Jiyeon like a truck. How must it have felt for Eunjae?
Leila stopped in her tracks, so beautiful with the sunlight caught in her hair, setting the strands aglow. Her rage was palpable. Ezra shrank back, frightened by this side of his mother, a side he hadn’t seen until now.
Eunjae wrapped an arm around him. He glanced at Jiyeon, holding her gaze for a long moment. She read the sadness in his eyes, but also an unshakable conviction. He'd been so afraid that it would come to this: the cycle repeating, Ezra devoured by their mother’s ambitions. None of that fear remained.
He made no promises and no threats. He didn't offer solutions, or warnings, or advice. Despite the complexity of his feelings, Eunjae turned to his brother and said, “What do you want to do?”
