For a moment, life feels simpler.
When the music stops, I open my eyes.
“My favorite part of the movie,” she says, laughing.
“Really?” I look at her, surprised. “I didn’t like it.”
Her mouth falls open. “No way. Why?”
“I hated the ending,” I say. “They had space on that damn door. They could’ve floated together.”
She raises a brow. “You know the story wouldn’t be the same without losing someone.”
“I still think it was a crime,” I say. “They deserved a happy ending.”
“Movies show that when we lose people, we think we can’t go on without them,” she says. She reaches for my hand, her fingers brushing mine. “But we have to keep going. That’s life.”
She squeezes my hand gently.
“There’s always controversy about endings,” she continues. “People always want more. They’re never happy with how things end. But sometimes, it’s meant to be exactly how it is.”
“Wow,” I say. “That’s deep.”
She reaches behind the piano, her arm disappearing for a second. When it comes back, she drags out a glass of wine I hadn’t noticed before, hidden on a small table.
“I know,” she says, raising the glass. “It’s the wine.”
I laugh. “Can I have some?” I raise a brow.
“Nice try, young lady.” She laughs, too. “You can have some when you turn eighteen.”
I shrug and turn, leaning my back against the piano.
“Do you know when Judas is coming back?” I ask.
She sighs.
“Probably in a week.” She takes a sip, then rolls her eyes. “William always does this.” She lowers the glass into her lap and turns toward me. “They go to a cottage in Julian and spend a week bonding. The therapist said it helps Judas to have someone to lean on.” Her voice softens. “But it makes me feel lonely.”
She drinks again, slower this time. “I’m being selfish. Sorry.”
“I know how it feels,” I say. “To be left out.” I nod toward her. “You’re not selfish. Just forgotten.”
“Ouch.” She lifts her upper lip and raises a brow.
I laugh. “Harsh truth.”
She exhales. “I guess.”
“Can I ask you something?” I lift my eyes to hers.
“Shoot.” She takes another sip.
“Why does Judge Harrington hate me?”
She laughs, surprised. “William?” She exhales and shakes her head when I nod. “He doesn’t hate you. He hates that he can’t control you.”
“Then why did he adopt me?”
