“Did you have a good night, dear?”
Not ‘good day’ or ‘good afternoon,’ but I don’tcare.
“Very,” I answer, which is an understatement.
I’m thinking of Lily.
I’ve been thinking of Lily all damn day, every day.
And if I don’t kiss her the moment I see her, I’m not entirely sure what will become of me.
I step inside, ready to sweep her into my arms—only to find the dining room full.
Catherine, Ellenor, and Lily are gathered around the dining table with snacks and a Monopoly board, Ellenor giving her latest monologue. The heat in my chest cools slightly.
Lily looks up first, smiling, hair in a messy bun with a few strands spilling loose in the sunlight. I want to pull her into me and kiss her properly—but with her mother and sister watching, I settle for a soft kiss to the top of her head.
I remain by Lily’s chair, leaning in to steal a chip and dip it in guacamole. I like avocado, but Lily’s family have it religiously every day. I wasn’t complaining—until they started combining it with Vegemite. That little yellow jar of black, tar-like substance is an evil that should never have entered my house.
“How’s it going?” I ask.
“Ellenor’s a horrible landlord,” Lily says, tossing a wad of paper money onto the board. “She charged me nine hundred dollars in rent and then took my train station.”
“I warned you not to buy King’s Cross—I told you I’d be coming for you,” Ellenor replies primly, smoothing her new card on the table with a pleased smile. “Now to seal off platform nine and three-quarters.”
“You monster,” Lily hisses, then glances down when her phone buzzes against the table. She frowns, posture stiffening.
“What is it?” Ellenor asks, already leaning over to see.
“It’s…an email from Hilary Green.” Lily’s voice is slow, uncertain. “The scout.”
All movement around the table pauses.
She swallows and turns the screen so we can all see.
Email from Hilary Green—Silverpoint Records.
“They want to talk,” she murmurs. “About…opportunities.”
Opportunities.
Record label interest.
Everything she once said she wanted.
I don’t dare speak, neither to encourage nor to caution. I want this for her. But not if she’ll sacrifices herself in its pursuit.
“You’re not answering?” Ellenor demands as Lily locks her phone and places it face-down.
“I need to think about it.”
“What is there to think about? This is your career.”
Lily tilts her head at her, her words pointed. “Says the ex-lawyer.”
Ellenor bristles. “Hey. I’m still registered. I can go back anytime I want.” Then, softer, barely audible: “If I want to.”
Catherine sets her mug down, watching Lily carefully. “Sweetheart, you don’t have to decide anything now. Sleep on it.”
