“And when it hurts…” she finishes, voice fading into ash. “Sing anyway. Even if it’s off-key. Even if all you’ve got left is the broken hallelujah.”
I reach for her.
But the ripples swallow her first.
Stella slips into the light, into memory, into silence.
Gone.
All that remains is the echo.
Fractured. Holy.
And then…
I come to.
Noise returns. Monitors beep. Faces blur overhead.
A hand squeezes mine.
I blink into the light, catching pale skin and purple stripes.
A sob punches the air.
Warm tears hit my knuckles, and relief crashes over me like surf.
I swallow hard, choked and shaking.
I’m here. She’s here.
It’s not over.
And the only thing dancing through my mind is:
Halle-fucking-lujah.
Chapter 64Chase
Six Months Later
“You’re on in fifteen!”
Carter’s voice slices through the noise of The Soundproof like a bolt cutter. He paces around, headset probably crooked as he wrangles cables or people or both. I can’t see him clearly, just a smear of motion and energy in the corner of my periphery.
But I feel everything else.
The buzz of amps in standby. The soft thud of boots crossing the room. The vibration of laughter. Zach cracks his knuckles as Kenna argues with someone over whether glitter is allowed onstage.
Either way, she’s using it.
Annie hums a melody under her breath, half distracted as she braids her hair or rewires her in-ear pack. I can’t tell anymore unless I ask.
And I don’t always ask.
Because sometimes not knowing keeps me from mourning the fact that I can’t see it.
I’m seated on the edge of the couch in the green room, fingers working across the frets of my guitar out of habit, not thought. Muscle memory keeps me grounded. The strap’s a little frayed at the end, soft from years of sweat and calluses, and my thumb rubs the edge like it’s braille.
