Page 76 of The Lookback

“When the motion’s granted, he’ll become my new agent,” Maren says. “Did you know that a lot of the industry’s top agents are also entertainment lawyers?”

“Go to the car, right now.” I point.

“Good luck with that,” Mandy says.

“At least it’s not about the retreat,” I say. “I can handle Maren.”

Mandy’s grim smile tells me that she’s not so sure. But what she’s forgetting is that I have a secret weapon.

Abigail.

There’s no way that I’m going to lose control of my own kid in the last nine months of her first eighteen years. No. Way. Not with Abigail by my side.

Maren doesn’t say a single word to me on the way to school. She doesn’t remind me that her stupid YouTube video got six million views before we pulled it down. She doesn’t tell me that her TikTok recording has been used for over twenty million reels. She doesn’t argue with me about how much I’m ruining her life.

She doesn’t have to, not anymore.

Because now she’s got someone with a much bigger stick to do her arguing for her. How desperate must that stupid record label be to offer a minor a deal and then help her find an agent who will help her emancipate herself? And if they’re that eager to sign her, how bad must their business be doing?

Yes, based on her past single, she’s probably close to a sure thing. In this environment, they must feel like they need it. And beyond that, the story’s making news already. Something like this—tyrannical parents from whom she must be freed, and famous parents to boot—would guarantee them good publicity. But it’s the worst thing that can happen for Maren.

Whether she believes it or not, part of the reason she’s gotten so much attention is that her stepfather has had a successful career. The fact that I was somewhat well known before I disappeared doesn’t hurt, either. People are clearly curious. They want to know more about Eddy and me, and it doesn’t hurt that she’s beautiful and that she can sing pretty well.

I’ve just dropped the girls off at school when my phone rings. As if she’s clairvoyant on top of everything else, it’s Abby.

“Hello?” I say.

“I have some bad news,” Abby says.

“How did you know?” I ask.

“Izzy showed me,” Abby says. “Wait. Why do you think I’m calling?”

“Just tell me what you need to tell me,” I say.

“Maren has another single up online, and this one has already hit five million views within just two days of being posted.”

“You’re kidding.” I’m going to strangle her.

“She did it under another account—some girl on her cheer team back in New York City—but it has taken off as well as the last one did. Probably because of what it’s about. . .”

“What does that mean?”

“I’ll give her this,” Abby says. “The tuneiscatchy. I even found myself humming it earlier, and that was after hearing it once.”

“What?” I ask.

“It’s a song about two kids who are in love, and their parents won’t let them see one another, but they find ways. The thing is, the chorus says, ‘Mom don’t know, and Dad ain’t dad, and they think they’re right, but they’re so wrong it hurts.’”

“I am going to strangle her.” I’m clutching the steering wheel so hard that my knuckles have gone white. “Abby, she sued me this morning. She’s asking to be emancipated.”

Abby laughs.

She actually laughs.

“Oh, good.” I sigh. “So you think she doesn’t have a case?”

“Of course she has no case,” Abby says. “If every kid who threw a temper tantrum was emancipated, think what our world would look like. She’s well-cared for by well-educated parents who love her and meet all of her physical, emotional, and mental needs. No judge in his right mind would emancipate her. I’m assuming they’ve filed in California, where there are judges who are certifiably nuts, but we’ll object first to the venue and get it moved to her current locus.”

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