“This time it may be true.” She squeezes my hand.
I nod and turn to examine myself in the mirror.
My reflection stops me cold. The elaborate costume makes me look like a stranger.
Someone glamorous, dangerous, alive.
I reach for the locket at my throat.
The metal is warm. Almost hot, like it’s pulsing against my skin.
“Daddy,” I whisper. “I made it.”
I can’t shake the thought that my father, wherever he is, knows his little girl is finally standing in the light.
I swipe at my cheeks, refusing to cry. I won’t let Jason’s poison or the tabloid headlines follow me here.
Not tonight.
Instead, I pull out my phone. Snap a selfie—costume, locket, eyes still shining with adrenaline. I send it to Zaza and Keesha with a simple caption:I've arrived.
I square my shoulders.
The nerves are still there, buzzing like bees under my skin, but they’re nothing compared to the fire in my chest.
The stagehand appears. “Places, everyone.”
The locket burns hotter, like it’s daring me to step back out and sing like my life depends on it.
And maybe it does.
I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.
I exhale, lift my chin.
Time to start the rest of my life.
CHAPTER 43
CAMERON
The red curtain rises.
The entire cast assembles on stage for the opening number.
And then, one by one, they twirl away.
It's time for Tara's aria.
She steps to the front of the stage in that rich velvet jacket, her gorgeous hair tucked under a cap to better look the role of the cabin boy.
Posey wriggles into my lap to get a better glimpse.
“There’s Tara, Daddy!"
"Shhhh."
All I can do is hold my daughter close and listen to Tara's beautiful voice fill the theater, every note ripping me open.
