* * *
Sitting on the piano bench in the music room, I stared down at the keys as if they were pieces to the puzzle I was trying to put together. After Lydia left, I’d come back upstairs with the intention of crawling under my covers again but had somehow wound up in here.
I hadn’t played a single note since lifting the fallboard. I was too lost in my own confusion to make room for something as simple as a song. It made absolutely no sense that Violet had given Lydia time off for such a huge promotional event, yet she’d asked me to come to Comic Con instead.
Why?
I closed my eyes and pored over my memories of the trip for any clues. The only thing that made me pause was the conversation we’d had on the flight to New York when Violet had mentioned dinner reservations and mani-pedis. Had she…wanted to hang out with me? She’d said as much, but I’d figured she was just being nice. The thought was laughable, absurd even, but also the only explanation that came to mind.
Things just weren’t adding up.
If my ridiculous theory was true and she actually had wanted to spend time with me that weekend, I couldn’t help but wonder what had changed. And why now? Because for the past five years, Violet had been too busy being Lilliana LaCroix to be my big sister.
Then again, if I was being truly honest with myself, I hadn’t been a very good sister either. I’d spent so much energy resenting the way her career had changed my life, then blaming her for causing Mom and Dad’s divorce. I was hurt she’d never come to any of my orchestra concerts, but when was the last time I’d shown up to support Violet for one of her events? She literally had to pay me to go to Comic Con, and the only reason I’d attended theINpremiere was because Xander had asked me to. On top of that, I’d congratulated Alec on his record label but hadn’t said a word to Violet about recording her first album. And all the while, she’d constantly checked in with me about my Juilliard application, which was way more than Dad had ever done. I’d thought Violet was being nosey and overbearing, but what if she genuinely wanted to make sure I did well?
It was hard for me to admit, but maybe Violet was…different.
At some point, she’d changed for the better, but I had no way of knowing when because I’d been too angry with her to notice. Yes, she was just as busy as she’d always been, but when she was home, she made a point of seeing how I was doing. The two of us had spoken more in the past two months than we had in years.
Whatever her motive for inviting me to Comic Con, I realized I owed her an apology. Violet was right—I needed to stop blaming her for my own unhappiness. If I wasn’t pleased with the way my life was going, thenIneeded to do something about it. I was an adult. It wasn’t Violet’s, my parents’, or anyone else’s job to make sure I was content. Happiness didn’t just exist inside people like blood or bones or DNA—it had to be created.
Violet spent October and November trying to fix the rift between us. But I’d ignored her and spat those efforts back in her face.
It was time for that to change.
With a newfound sense of understanding, I slid off the piano bench and went to my dad’s office. He was on the phone, but as soon as he saw me standing in the doorway, he ended his call. There was a look of concern etched into the lines of his face.
“Indie, are you okay?” he asked, the wheels of his computer chair whirling against the floor as he pushed away from his desk. “Your fever isn’t worse, is it?”
“Actually,” I said, scraping a hand through my bangs, “I’m feeling much better, and I was hoping to talk to you about something?”
“Sure,” he said, relaxing into a smile. He wheeled back toward his desk, then pointed to the armchair on the opposite side, indicating that I should take a seat. “What about?”
I pulled it out and sank into the cushion. “Well, I thought a lot about Violet today, and I came to the realization that I haven’t been very fair to her. I was wondering if you’d let me go to the recording studio so I could apologize to her.”
He frowned. “I don’t know, Indie.”
“I know I’m grounded,” I replied in a rush, “but I’d just be going there and back. I promise I won’t stop anywhere else.”
“Kiddo, it’s not that…”
“Oh.” I paused, taken aback. “Then what is it?”
“Your sister isn’t very happy with you,” he said, giving me a confused look. “After talking with her this morning, I think it’s going to take more than one conversation to fix things between you two, and since today is her birthday, I don’t want her—”
Dad kept talking, but his words didn’t register. My mind was stuck on repeat:Today is her birthday, her birthday, her birthday.I tried to swallow, but my throat was thick and tight. How had I forgotten? If I hadn’t already felt like the world’s shittiest sister, I certainly did now.
“Indie?” Dad was staring at me as if I’d just announced my plans to join the circus. “You sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine,” I said, shaking my head to clear the remaining fog. “Look, I don’t want to ruin Violet’s birthday. I just want to apologize. If she doesn’t want to talk to me, I’ll leave her alone, I swear.”
Dad steepled his fingers, pressing them against his lips as he considered.
“You’re the one who asked me to make things right with her, remember?” I added.
“Fine,” he said, releasing a sigh. “But you should text her first. If she doesn’t want to talk with you, then there’s no point in driving all the way out to Hollywood.”
“Yes, of course,” I said, shooting to my feet with a grin. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
