Is this rehab? Is she okay???
Another publicity stunt from a washed-up rockstar
She looks miserable. Leave her alone ffs
Annabelle felt sick.
This was her fault. Well, Nina's fault technically, but Annabelle should have stopped her. Should have known this would happen. Should have protected Raven's privacy better.
She grabbed her phone and headed next door.
Raven answered on the third knock, and the look on her face made Annabelle take a step back.
Cold. Distant. Nothing like the person who'd been so gentle with the children just hours before.
"I'm so sorry," Annabelle said immediately. "I had no idea Nina was going to post that photo publicly, and I certainly didn't know it would spread like this. I've asked her to take it down, and I've contacted the school to—"
"It doesn't matter," Raven said flatly.
"Of course it matters! Your privacy has been—"
"I said it doesn't matter." Raven's voice was sharp. "It's out there now. That's how these things work. You can't put it back in the box."
"But I feel terrible."
"Don't." Raven started to close the door. "I shouldn't have expected anything different. This is what people do. They take, and they share, and they don't think about consequences."
"That's not fair," Annabelle said quietly. "Nina didn't mean any harm."
"Intent doesn't matter." Raven's eyes were hard. "Impact does. And the impact is that now everyone knows where I am. The one thing I came here to avoid."
"I'm sorry," Annabelle said again, feeling helpless.
"Yeah. Me too." Raven closed the door.
Annabelle stood there for a long moment, staring at the closed door, feeling like she'd just been punched in the stomach.
THE NEXT REHEARSAL was scheduled for two days later. Annabelle arrived early, hoping to catch Raven before everyone else showed up, to apologize properly, to explain.
But Raven was already there, setting up in the corner with her guitar, and when Annabelle approached, she was met with the same cold distance.
"Hi," Annabelle tried. "I wanted to—"
"Let's just focus on the rehearsal," Raven said, not looking at her. "That's what I'm here for."
And that was it.
For the entire rehearsal, Raven kept everyone at arm's length. She taught the children their song with the same patience as before, but there was none of the warmth. No little jokeswith Thomas, no encouraging smiles for Jamie. Just efficient, professional instruction.
When Gloria tried to engage her in conversation about choreography, Raven gave monosyllabic answers.
When Daisy asked if she was alright, Raven said she was fine in a tone that very clearly meantdon't ask again.
And when Annabelle tried to catch her eye, to smile, to somehow bridge this awful gap that had opened between them, Raven looked right through her.
It was like the past few days hadn't happened. Like all those small moments, the guitar lessons with Jamie, the almost-smiles, the way she'd looked at the children with such tenderness, had been erased.
By the time rehearsal ended, Annabelle felt like crying.
