"Not particularly."
"Going to anyway?"
She gave him a look, but there was no heat in it. Arty had become something like a friend over the past few weeks, someone who saw through her bullshit but didn't call her on it unless absolutely necessary.
"I have to leave," she said finally. "Soon. Maybe next week."
"Because of the media?"
"Partly. But also…" She gestured vaguely. "I came here to write. And I'm finally doing that again. Which means I need to actuallydosomething with it. Record. Tour. All the things that come with being a solo artist instead of hiding in a cottage in the middle of nowhere."
"Is that what you want?"
"I don't know." The admission felt dangerous. "I thought I did. But now… I mean, yes, I do, of course I do. I love what I do. But…"
She trailed off, watching Annabelle across the hall as she helped a group of children into their costumes for the opening number. One of them, a tiny girl with pigtails, was crying because her fairy wings were crooked. Annabelle kneeled down, fixed the wings with gentle hands, and said something that made the girl giggle.
"She makes it look easy," Raven said quietly. "Caring about people. Being kind. I've never been good at that."
"I don't know," Arty said. "You're here, aren't you? Helping. Teaching Jamie. Dealing with Gloria's dramatics without murdering anyone."
"That's different."
"Is it?"
Raven didn't answer.
"Look," Arty said, "I'm not going to tell you what to do. But you don't have to have everything figured out right this second. You just have to choose what you want. And maybe…" He stood, brushing dust off his jeans. "Maybe it's not as binary as stay or go. People do long distance relationships, you know. Trains exist. Phones exist. It's not the bloody Victorian era."
"Yeah," Raven said. "Maybe."
But even as she said it, she wasn't sure she believed it.
Long distance meant promises. Meant letting someone down when the tour ran late or the recording sessions dragged on or the exhaustion caught up with her. Meant asking Annabelle to wait while Raven disappeared back into the chaos of her real life.
And Annabelle deserved better than that.
Didn't she?
"Right," Arty said, clearly deciding the conversation was over. "I'm going to make sure the lighting rig doesn't fall on anyone's head. You good here?"
"Yeah. Thanks."
He squeezed her shoulder once, briefly, and walked off.
Raven sat there for another moment, watching the organized chaos swirl around her. Then she stood, shook herself, and went to see what else needed doing.
BY SEVEN O’CLOCK, the hall was packed.
Every seat was filled, with people standing along the back wall and sitting cross-legged in the aisles. The raffle table was doing brisk business, and the cake table had nearly sold out. The fairy lights twinkled overhead, and someone had hung paper stars from the ceiling that spun slowly in the warm air.
It looked, Raven had to admit, bloody magical.
She stood backstage with the other volunteers, watching through a gap in the curtain as Lily took the microphone.
"Good evening, everyone," Lily said, her voice calm and authoritative. "Thank you all so much for coming tonight. As you know, we're here to raise funds to keep our school library open, a space that means so much to our children and our community."
Applause rippled through the crowd.
