“I caught your episode. I thought you were great.”
“I was happy with the performance, which is rare. Even Roger said we nailed it.”
“It sounds like you were having a good night. Were you riding a high when you shaved your head?”
“Definitely not.” I pause, and Dr. X waits patiently. “I was drunk, for one. We were at this loud restaurant, and Roger kept feeding me drinks. I didn’t want them, but I drank them anyway.”
“Why?”
Ginny punches one of our throw pillows and lays her head on it. “Because of Theo.”
“Because Theo cares about making Roger happy,” I admit.
Dr. X taps her pen against her notebook. “And you care about making Theo happy?”
“Ha!” Ginny says, warming to the conversation. “She’s got you.”
Telling the truth feels like pulling teeth. “I guess so.”
Dr. X nods. “Go on. So you were drinking to please Roger to please Theo, and then what?”
“One of theSNLcomedians shaved another’s head as a prank, and Roger got into a dick-measuring contest with Lorne Michaels over whose stars were crazier or something stupid like that. I’m pretty sure Roger would compete with a baby for a lollipop. But he seemed so weirdly proud of me. And everyone in the restaurant was watching and I felt like if I didn’t entertain them, be this person they expected . . . I don’t know.”
“Who’s ‘they’?”
“Roger. TheSNLpeople. The internet. Do you know some pop singer said I made up Ginny to sell tickets?”
“If I could set a poltergeist on her,” Ginny says, raising a brow, “I would.”
Dr. Xavier takes rapid notes. “Tell me more about that.”
I pull my laptop off the coffee table and settle it on my legs. I’m wearing sweatpants and thick socks, and the comfort of being home in Long Beach, on a day off, is a relief. “First Theo didn’t even know Ginny was my sister. And now all of these people on Instagram and TikTok are saying Ginny never existed, she’s some kind of marketing ploy. Even if it’s supposed to be a joke, it’s not fucking funny.”
“Why does an internet joke bother you so much?”
I gape at her. “Because the whole point of my new album is to prove Ginny did more than just exist—she lit up the world. She was important, and she deserves to be remembered. All the new songs are for her, so no one can ever forget her. The album’s a . . . ”
“A monument?” Dr. X asks.
“I guess so,” I admit.
“You couldn’t stop her from dying, so you’re trying to figure out a way to make her live forever. No wonder the stakes of this album feel so high. And it’s no wonder alcohol feels like an escape from all that pressure.”
Tears well up as my face heats. I wipe them away quickly. “Ginny always let me have the spotlight. It was the Hannah show, and she was in the background.”
“Ah.” On-screen, Dr. Xavier settles back in her chair. “Now we’re getting somewhere. You were the star, then the sister who lived, and now you’re the one reaping success. You feel guilty.”
I can’t help but look at the other end of the couch to see if Ginny will confirm these fears, confirm she spent her life and now her death in my shadow. But her expression gives nothing away. She simply studies me, waiting to see what I’ll say.
“What are you looking at?” Dr. X asks. “Is someone in the room with you?”
I snap back. “No. I just— I’m worried everything you said is true.”
“Let’s try something. Tell me five things only you know about your sister.”
“Why?”
“Because we’re going to concentrate on the truth. Things you can count on. Not your fears or speculation. Big or small, it can be anything.”
