The arena quieted.
“This song has changed for me during the tour,” I said. “I used to think it was about reaching the end of a difficult season. Now I think it may be about noticing you are still inside it and continuing anyway.”
There was no mention of Ellie.
No hidden apology designed for one person.
The song belonged to everyone in the room.
I played it.
When the final note faded, the audience remained quiet for one breath before the applause rose.
The last encore ended beneath silver paper falling from the ceiling.
I stood with the band, arms around shoulders, looking at the crowd as the lights came up.
Eleven months ended without asking whether I was ready.
Backstage, people shouted, hugged, and began opening champagne.
Rachel handed me a bottle of water.
“Your five days start after the party.”
“I thought they began now.”
“You promised forty-five minutes.”
“I was under pressure.”
“You were surrounded by lawyers.”
“That is a kind of pressure.”
Sophie approached with her phone.
“Richard has reduced his calls to one every twelve minutes.”
“He is healing.”
“He wants a meeting tomorrow.”
“No.”
“I told him Monday.”
I looked at her.
“You did?”
“You have five days.”
“Thank you.”
“Do not make me repeat it.”
Rachel checked the time.
