Page 36 of Sinful Desires
He stood by the door, focused on his tablet like he’d been hired to monitor the world through a screen rather than participate in this whole thing.
Every now and then, his eyes flicked toward the glass, scanning the hallway.
For just the briefest moment, I caught a glimpse of something I rarely saw on his hard-as-stone face: the faintestcurve at the corner of his lips. It was so small, so fleeting, that I almost convinced myself I’d imagined it.
Almost.
“Sorry, kids,” I said, putting on my best innocent face. “Guess I got a little carried away. So?…?my favorite country is America, obviously!”
I gave Lee a high five.
The kids erupted into excited chatter, all of them raising their hands like they were fighting for the next question. I pointed to a girl with a bandana on her head and tubes in her nose, clutching her IV pole.
“What’s your name, sweetie?”
“Ava,” she said softly, her cheeks flushing pink.
I smiled at her, leaning in a little. “What’s your question, Ava?”
She hesitated before speaking. “Have you always dreamed of being a singer?”
A heaviness settled in my chest. Being a singer had always been my dream. To move people, to share my soul through music. To be free. But somewhere along the way, the dream had turned dark.
Now it felt more like a gilded cage I’d built with my voice. But I couldn’t blame anyone else. I’d asked for this—no—beggedfor it.
At sixteen, when I was too young to know better, my father had asked me what I wanted to be. Who asks a child that? Who gives them the weight of that question before they’d even learned how to carry themselves?
But I’d made a choice. I had pulled the trigger.
And now, almost five years later, I was living in the wreckage.
I forced a smile, but it didn’t reach my eyes. “It’s always been my dream to be a singer. For people to love my songs so muchthey’d carry them everywhere: when they’re happy, when they’re sad, in all the good and not-so-good moments.”
Ava lit up. “Well, I love your music!”
“Thank you, sweetie,” I laughed, reaching out to high-five her tiny hand. “And what about you? What’s your big dream?”
She scrunched up her nose, thinking, then pointed at me. “I wanna be just likeyouwhen I grow up!”
Something tugged at my chest, sharp and sweet all at once.
“Oh, Ava, I bet you’re gonna be a thousand times better than me,” I said, winking.
Please be.
Please grow up and be loved without earning it.
Please never learn what it feels like to smile on a stage and die behind it.
I wanted to tell her all of that. But instead, I just smiled.
The room exploded with little voices shouting, “Me! Me! Me!”
I pointed to a tiny girl with wild blonde hair who was holding a stuffed unicorn and sucking her thumb.
“What’s your name, sweetie?”
“Inez,” she mumbled around her thumb.
